


Future Full of Unwritten Things

by winglesswarrior



Series: Fate Finds a Way [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, College AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:11:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 108,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winglesswarrior/pseuds/winglesswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meeting Niall was mostly chance, but it changed everything about Zayn's life and kept on changing it again and again. </p><p>---</p><p>The companion/prequel piece to <a>I'm Gonna Love and Give it a Name</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As stated, this is the prequel/companion to I'm Gonna Love and Give it a Name. This starts long before that piece starts and as a result, Harry and Louis will be minimal (and won't show up for a while). You don't need to read the other first, though this will have spoilers for that piece once it catches up to it timeline wise. 
> 
> Title is from Yellowcard's "Illuminate" (if you aren't listening to their new music you should be!) 
> 
> This work is completely fiction and I don't own the people these characters resemble or anything related to them. All in good fun.
> 
> I should add love for my betas, driftingdoll, itemfinder and qdpoisson. They've been trudging through this on the long haul with me and I love them dearly. 
> 
> Hey! For those of you interested, there's a spotify playlist!
> 
> [FFOUT Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/winglesswarrior/playlist/0jmHm7gj7BE4o3zt7LyXCd)
> 
> Feel free to stalk me on the spotify, just don't judge me for the randomness of my music.

Zayn hadn’t even been there twenty minutes and he hated art camp. It wasn’t really art ‘camp’ like that Camp Rock movie, but it was the best word for the month long summer program Zayn’s parents enrolled in him after he’d gotten picked up by the police while tagging the side of a building. Standing in line to check in on the university campus was easily the last place he wanted to be, but the other option was mandatory community service that they said was painting over any of the street art in his hometown with bland gray. Given the choice, ‘channeling his art in a more productive manner’ sounded positively smashing. At least that had been the thought until he arrived, with the embarrassing realization that he was kind of homesick. Who felt homesick at sixteen?

It didn’t help that the girl at the registration table set up outside the main hall was giving him the largest fake smile he’d ever seen; she seemed unsure what to do with him, even though the guy before him hadn’t gotten that look. He bit at his lip and tried to look as harmless as possible and almost managed until a football hit him square in the back and knocked the wind out of him. He barely managed to catch himself on the table, spinning to see who’d hit him, trying to glare at the approaching obviously-bleached-at-home blonde. Blondie bounced towards Zayn with a guitar case on his back and a grin despite the fact that he looked guilty. “Mate! Sorry! Chuck’s a moron and can only hit what he isn’t aimin’ at,” he gasped, half out of breath in a way that made his Irish accent sound thicker. He bent to retrieve the ball then held up a hand like he wanted to pat Zayn on the back, but then seemed to pull up short in case he might hurt Zayn by just touching him. 

“Damn right he is,” Zayn grumbled, his voice sounding far less terse than he intended. This guy was partially responsible for hitting him with a ball, but he was also so smiley and for some reason the red flush of his cheeks made Zayn’s stomach feel warm. 

“Eh, ya Brits are all shit at footie,” blondie said with a grin, elbowing Zayn in the side, whatever hesitation he might have had moments before forgotten. Then he was slinging his arm around Zayn’s shoulders and leaning over the table with a winning smile for the girl who seemed unable to do anything but smile back. “Niall Horan,” he said nodding towards her paper. She handed Zayn his things, then went about checking Niall in as well. Zayn kept waiting for Niall to move his arm, but he didn’t, leaning into Zayn like they were best friends and laughing with the girl who seemed a lot more relaxed now that Niall was there. 

Once Niall was checked in, he glanced at Zayn’s room assignment and grinned. “Same building. Great. Let me get my stuff and we’ll head there together.” The blonde jogged off, guitar bouncing on his back while Zayn gathered up his bags. A moment later, Niall was there again, grinning and nudging at Zayn to get him walking. “What are you here for?” 

Zayn shrugged, not one to usually answer questions about himself. “Drawing, I guess. I paint too.” One of his bags had clothes in it, but the other was full of supplies, half-finished sketchbooks, pencils, binders of loose paper, watercolors, brushes and a brand new set of charcoals his mother had bought him to make up for sending him away from home for the month. There was also a bag of spray paint cans, something he’d picked up on the way during one of the bus layovers he’d had. He was strictly forbidden to buy those after the incident, but Zayn wasn’t about to spend a month at art camp without his favorite medium. “You here for guitar?” 

Niall shook his head, grinning in a way that somehow made his profile light up. Zayn wondered what it would look like on paper or canvas and how weird it would be to ask someone to pose while he drew them. He didn’t usually draw people, more focused on shapes, tattoo ideas, and street art, but Niall’s face stirred something in him. The new pack of charcoals in his bag were aching to capture that face and that smile. It wasn’t like Zayn at all and he felt himself blush before Niall spoke again. “Actually here to sing. The guitar gives me something to do with my hands. I’m more a James Taylor than a Slash.” 

Zayn wasn’t sure who either of those people were, but he nodded along anyway, ducking his head to cover the flush in his cheeks, hiding that by looking at the map of the campus he’d been handed. “Should be here,” he pointed to the buildings looming in front of them, eyeing them for a moment until he spotted the name of one of them, written over the doorway of the building on the right. “That one.” 

Niall nodded, one hand on Zayn’s arm before Zayn could react, tugging him towards the building. It was a touch busier inside than outside, kids bustling around getting settled, a few parents here and there dropping them off and saying goodbye. Every three people or so, someone would call out to Niall and he’d wave or say hi, usually something more personable than a stock greeting. Half the people had nicknames and by the time they were standing in front of the door to Zayn’s room, he was beyond confused and not at all sure why Niall’s hand was still on his arm. “You’ve been here before?” 

“Last summer,” Niall confirmed. “You’re gonna love it.” He took Zayn’s key, opening the door for him with another grin. “Get settled and we’ll grab a late lunch, yeah? The dining hall’s usually set up with sandwiches and such for most of the day because people get here at random times. Plus you look a little pale. I’m prescribing lunch and sunshine. Come on.” He waved Zayn into his room then pointed down the hall. “I’m right over there. I”ll see you in a bit, yeah?” Zayn wasn’t sure what to do with his hands or how he, of all people, had managed to make a friend the first hour after being there, but he couldn’t help but return Niall’s smile and nod. 

“Yeah, sure. Sounds great.”

“Wicked.” Niall clapped him on the back a little harder than Zayn would have liked, but it didn’t seem to be from a place of malice. It was more not realizing his own strength. “Great. We’re gonna have a blast.” He grinned again then bounced off, leaving Zayn alone in his room and wondering just how the hell that had happened. 

\-----

The days went on like that though. Niall never missed a meal, which meant despite Zayn’s love for sleep, he was there, bright and early, waking up Zayn for breakfast. He waited as Zayn pulled on clothes and trainers, bouncing on his unmade bed, already going on about the day. There was rarely a point where Niall didn’t have his guitar across his back and hardly a moment where he wouldn’t pull it out to sing with the other students (campers?) no matter what their focus. When he finally got Zayn to join in with him, he leaned across and smacked him upside the head.

“That’s what you sound like?” Niall demanded and Zayn dropped his pencil he’d been using to sketch the tree at the edge of the lawn they were sitting on, rubbing at his head. 

“Um, I guess.” 

“Why aren’t you here to sing?” 

Zayn felt his cheeks go warm. He’d always liked singing, but to be good at it involved doing it in front of people and that wasn’t happening. No way. Not a chance. “Because I like to draw.” Saying that was safer than admitting he was afraid of something. Niall had a habit of taking the things that made Zayn nervous and working them into daily activities. Like how right now he was resting against Zayn’s back, shoulder poking the space between Zayn’s shoulder blades, guitar butting against him. Zayn’s friends back home didn’t do that. They didn’t invade his personal space like Niall did, making himself at home. He’d been reluctant at first, which just seemed to spur the blonde on and now, somehow, in less than a week, Zayn’s gotten more used to Niall touching him than not. 

“What are you drawing?” Niall hooked his chin over Zayn’s shoulder, peering down at the sketchbook in his hands. 

“The tree across the lawn there,” Zayn pointed out, stating the obvious since It looked exactly like the tree.

“You hate drawing shit like that,” Niall stated, so matter of factly that Zayn had to blink back his shock at the other boy figuring him out and wondered just _when_ that had happened.

“I don’t hate it, I just don’t like it. I’m supposed to be working on it.” 

“I thought you liked Sawyer. You said she didn’t panic when you showed her the spray paint.” Niall leaned over Zayn’s shoulder more to flip the pages in the sketchbook, trying to find something else to look at. 

“I do like Sawyer. This is for Teasdale. She’s paint, he’s drawing and they’re way different.” Ms. Sawyer was the young, stereotypical art teacher that Zayn spent two hours a day with for painting. She’d started the class talking about mediums, how it was just as important as the subject, then asked them to show what they preferred. So many of the other students were traditionalists, rolling their eyes and showing off oils and watercolors, that when she got to Zayn, he blushed when he held up the spray paint can. She’d tilted her head, stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. The class had kept going, discussing what they would accomplish that summer, art shows they had planned and such forth, but the next day she pulled him aside and handed him a mask and showed him to a different room with open windows. 

“The weather’s too unpredictable to work outside and while you might prefer walls, I think canvas could do the trick.” She’d found giant ones for him, a few bigger than he was and shown him a cabinet where there was even more paint. “See if you can step beyond tagging,” she’d said with a pat on his shoulder then left him to it. 

Zayn let Niall flip pages until he found what he was looking for, grinning and draping more over Zayn’s back. “You did more!” 

Zayn rolled his eyes, but it was mostly for show, enjoying the way Niall lit up at the sight of his work. It wasn’t even that good, but between Teasdale making him draw nature and hands and feet, he was working on his own things, something more comic book style and it had somehow worked its way into a mini comic in between Zayn’s assignments. Niall, for his mediocre understanding of actual comics, seemed to have taken a liking to it, and even now was curled around Zayn’s back, reading the updates Zayn had made. 

Niall was warmer than the sunshine had been, and his steady breath against Zayn’s neck was making his stomach swoop in a way he wasn’t really used to with boys, but he supposed might just be the closeness. And hormones. That happened. Zayn was just settling into it, listening to the soft murmur of noise as Niall read along, partially out loud when a football bounced into view. 

“Nialler!” Niall shifted, looking over his shoulder and Zayn could tell from the way his neck moved that he was grinning. 

“Chuck!” 

“You and the boyfriend up for a game?” It was the same kid that had hit him with the football the first day, but apparently all was forgotten. Well, almost. That he’d called Zayn Niall’s _boyfriend_ made Zayn’s stomach twist and his cheeks go red and he ducked his head in silent protest. 

“Whaddya say? Footie for a bit?” Niall asked, pushing up and holding out a hand for Zayn. No one denied the boyfriend thing. Not Niall, not Chuck, not Zayn. Was that what they were? Zayn had a feeling he’d be more aware if that was the case, but maybe not. What did he know about having a boyfriend anyway? Did he even want one? 

“Um, nah. Tree to finish. Plus you know me and sports.” 

Niall laughed and shook his head. “Soon. I’ll get you out there, Zee. And it’ll be amazing.” He ruffled his fingers through Zayn’s hair despite Zayn’s protest then went for the ball and kicked it back to Chuck, joining the other lads a little ways away on the lawn for a quick kickabout. Zayn moved Niall’s abandoned guitar closer, keeping an eye on it for him and flipped to a new page in his book, settling back to start sketching the boys playing, and resolutely not thinking about things like boyfriends and how they related to Niall. 

\----

The boyfriend thing didn’t go away the way Zayn thought it might. It got mentioned a few times more, as if people had started to believe it and Niall never said anything against it. He just shrugged and invited Zayn along to whatever he was being asked to do. Zayn wasn’t one for sexuality crisis, just sort of taking that it didn’t bother him that people thought he was with Niall with a grain of salt. What bothered him about it more than anything was that he wasn’t sure if he was with Niall. He’d had girlfriends before and, while some aspects of the relationship were similar, there was a lot less kissing and sexually charged moments. Most of what he had with Niall was comfortable invasions of each other’s space and occasionally falling asleep in the same bed after watching a movie on Niall’s sluggish but determined laptop. It was kind of like being in a relationship, though he might have wanted to do more making out before finding out that Niall snored pressed up against his back in the middle of the night. 

There were worse things though and if Zayn had to have a boyfriend it was kind of nice that his was also his best friend. He had friends back home, plenty, but the ones he’d considered himself closest to were nothing like Niall. He always managed to make Zayn smile, even when Zayn was half asleep and grumping about being at breakfast before he had to be at classes, or frustrated when he’d ripped up the same drawing three times because it wasn’t quite right. And if there were pages of Niall in the back of one of his sketchbooks, then no one had to know about it. 

They’d gotten into neat little habits, watching movies together, getting meals together, Niall sitting in the back of the art studio by the window while Zayn worked, Zayn hiding out in a music practice room while Niall picked out chords to the song he had to perform that week. He went to each of Niall’s Friday showcases and Niall always came to ooh and ahh over Zayn’s work hanging in the art shows on Saturdays. It was comfortable. 

Well...usually. 

“Hey Nialler, look what my mum sent! Finally got here,” Zayn said, just opening the door to Niall’s room because it was never locked and they’d been talking about Zayn’s mum sending his Iron Man DVDs for most of the week. He stopped short though when he realized Niall was definitely not alone and the squeak of surprise was from the girl without her shirt that was under him. Zayn felt his eyes go comically wide and he ducked his head, not from looking at her, but the expanse of pale and lightly freckled skin that made up his friend’s back. “So...not a good time. I’m gonna...yeah.” His voice sounded surprisingly steady as he backed out of the room, shutting the door and staring at it like it had betrayed him. “Coulda locked the door,” he muttered at it then shook his head and went back to his room. That would be a no on Niall being his boyfriend. Or being the kind of boyfriend that didn’t kiss the person he was with. 

Really, it was good that it had been cleared up. 

Forty-five minutes later, Niall dropped into his usual place next to Zayn at the long tables in the dining room which looked straight out of Harry Potter. The pamphlet on tours in the sleepy university town said that it was actually the other way around though and that the Great Hall at Hogwarts was based off the dining halls at the colleges at Oxford. Niall was doing his best Ron impression, reaching for food with a flushed face and grinning at Zayn. “So you got the Iron Mans? Iron Men? Which is it?” 

Zayn looked around for the girl, or anyone, who might explain why they were just jumping into the part of the conversation that happened before Zayn had realized he’d walked in on Niall with a girl. “Uh yeah,” he said after a moment and with no one coming out of the woodwork to explain things. “Sorry about…” What? Sorry he’d interrupted? Sorry he’d thought that they were together and didn’t expect Niall to be shagging girls? Sorry for not realizing Niall was into girls in the first place? Zayn wasn’t sure, so he just let the comment die there. 

“Nothing to be sorry ‘bout. Didn’t ruin a damn thing.” Niall grinned around half a mouthful of shepard’s pie, which should have been disgusting but was actually kind of endearing and gestured at Zayn before swallowing. “So movie tonight? You figure we should just marathon ‘um back to back and stay up or like...wait and spread them out over the next two days?” 

Zayn’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Don’t you have...plans?” 

Niall grinned. “Sure do. Iron Man and you. Let’s marathon ‘um. Worst case, we pass out halfway through two and just have to start all over again tomorrow.” 

Zayn’s stomach did that swooping thing that he’d learned was just a Niall thing and he couldn’t help but smile back. Movies and him. Who cared about the girl? “Yeah. Great plan. After dinner?” 

“Definitely. Can’t wait.” 

\-----

The second time Zayn walked in on Niall (he really needed to learn to lock the door), Zayn did something about it. It wasn’t acknowledging the fact that seeing Niall with his tongue down someone else’s throat made both his heart clench and his stomach twist, but it was something. She was cute, dark brown hair, big brown eyes, as far from Niall as he could get, and Betsy always laughed at the paint on his hands when they finished in the art studios. She worked with oils, but used a proper smock and actually washed her hands afterwards, whereas Zayn just got used to walking around with paint on his shirt, arms and hands. It was just the price he had to pay for his art. She’d been teasing him though, about it on his cheek, so he’d grinned at her in the way he knew girls liked and wiped some of what was on his hand off on her arm. Somehow the giggling and paint swapping turned into snogging against one of the work tables in the studio until Sawyer caught them and cleared her throat to usher them out. Embarrassing, sure, but the teacher didn’t do more than shake her head and mumble something about ‘being young’. 

Snogging Betsy was fun enough, not quite what Zayn had in mind, but he liked that she didn’t take it too seriously after that, up for sitting next to him and letting him flirt with her when Niall was flirting with everyone else. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing. Niall didn’t seem to mind either and, despite his flirting with everyone and Betsy’s presence, the two of them still wound up camped out on the lawn together in the afternoon sun, or curled up under Niall’s duvet watching movies and throwing popcorn at the tiny laptop screen. The swoopy feeling in his stomach was still there when he woke up with Niall’s face pressed against his shoulder or their hugs lingered a little too long, but Zayn wasn’t reading into it. It was what it was and it was too nice to let go of. 

\----

“Knew you could move beyond tagging walls,” Sawyer said, voice proud behind him and Zayn turned to see the teacher grin, arms crossed over her chest. The final showcase and art shows were always the biggest. The students were given more freedom for all their mediums and it was the sort of thing where the classical guitarist performed with singers like a proper rock band or artists like Zayn unveiled the art that really meant the most to them. Zayn grinned back at his teacher and nodded. 

“Yeah, I guess I did.” 

“What’s it called?” she asked, pulling out the little card that would hang next to the giant canvas in the gallery. 

“Whimsy.” Even the name was so unlike him, but the painting wasn’t about him. 

Sawyer hummed to herself then wrote it on the card. “I like it. Well done, Zayn. This alone should be enough for you to come back next year. And if you keep getting better, an art program at uni will be easy to get into.” She patted his back in a friendly mentor sort of way. “Teasdale says you’ve got an eye for graphic novels as well, as much as he hates them, but don’t tell him I told you.” She grinned and nodded towards the painting. “They’ll come pick it up in a few minutes, hang it in the gallery. You have a wonderful school year, yeah? I’ll see you again next summer.” 

Zayn felt himself flush at the compliments, ducking his head with a small smile. “Yeah. Can’t wait.” Sawyer left him with his painting and he took a long breath staring back at it. It was abstract, done in swirling spray paint colors, bright greens, reds, and oranges with yellow and blues mixed in. It was light and airy and it didn't come with the heavy burden that Zayn had walked onto campus with. He’d changed over the five weeks and the world needed to know. Someone had changed him. He wasn’t even sure how or when it had happened, but there were a lot less reasons to be so angry with everything in the world these days. Zayn nodded at the painting as if thanking it for being good and grabbed his bag of supplies and headed for the door. He had just enough time to run back to his room and change before Niall’s showcase, if he hurried. 

He was almost late sneaking into the theater they used on campus, but Chuck, love Chuck despite his horrid aim, saved him a seat as instructed near the front and Zayn was able to drop into it just before the lights went down. There were two acts before Niall, a group of very talented singers performing a rousing version of Bohemian Rhapsody with nothing but a piano accompaniment and a violin player with a jaunty tune called “Hot Canary”. Both great, but no one got the round of applause and cheers that Niall, everyone’s favorite person on campus, got as he wandered his way to middle of the stage, signature guitar on his back and holding a stool in one hand and mic stand in the other. He grinned as he settled and the crowd of guys he played five-a-side with chanted out his name like they were at an arena rather than a kind of posh university theater waiting for him to play. “Funny, guys,” Niall said into the microphone with an impish grin Zayn adored and strummed the first few notes. 

He’d told Zayn he was singing a cover, but when he started, Zayn realized it wasn’t. He’d heard the chords before, something he’d caught Niall playing, but there’d never been words to go with it. Well, none he’d heard at least. That was what he’d thought when Niall started singing and then Zayn found himself sinking more into his seat, eyes wide. He’d always loved Niall’s voice, but there was something incredible about him singing his own song over James Blunt or Foo Fighters covers. This was something else altogether. 

This was a Niall original. 

Zayn didn’t even realized he’d stopped breathing until the song ended and everyone started cheering. He hadn’t realized he was completely out of his chair and on his feet until he noticed that other people were standing up too, giving Niall a mini standing ovation as he bowed and blushed then drug his equipment away. Zayn spent the rest of the showcase fidgeting, not listening to the other acts, but mentally planning out just how to tell Niall how amazing he was. 

As soon as the lights were up in the auditorium again, Zayn was out of his chair, pushing towards the door the backstage to find his friend. Niall was there, in the middle of a crowd of other performers, coordinating the after-party or something along those lines, but the moment Zayn was there, Niall’s conversations were forgotten for the bear hug that Zayn smashed into him with. “You were so great!” he cheered, though it was muffled by where his face was pressed into Niall’s neck, enjoying the the warmth of his skin, the sweet smell of Niall laced with an edge of sweat. 

Niall was laughing and Zayn was completely lost in that noise, loving the sound of his laughter more than anything else. He was squeezing Zayn so hard it almost hurt, but Zayn didn’t pull back for a second. They were going home tomorrow, but maybe if he clung to Niall, he wouldn’t have to give up the feeling of having him close until the last possible second. It seemed to be working too until something was pulling on Niall, saying his name and drawing his attention away from Zayn. At first, it was just the hug ending, which was too much, but Niall’s arm stayed across Zayn’s shoulders and Zayn could stay curled close to him even if he was forced to look up at who was speaking.

“Chuck’s got some liquor he managed to score,” the girl was saying. She was cute in that bouncing hair sort of way and Zayn knew he was supposed to remember her name. She and Niall had been dancing around each other since he’d stopped making out with the last girl that held his interest three days ago and judging by the way Niall’s smile went too bright and his hand slipped from Zayn, their hook up was inevitable. “The party's over in the McKendry dorm. Come on.” She had her hand on his arm, grinning in her too low cut shirt and Zayn had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing Niall’s other arm and pulling him back to him. He didn’t want to share Niall. Not on his last night. 

Niall stumbled forward a little at the grip she had on his arm, grinning his most charming smile that girls seemed to fall for every time and nodded. “M’coming. But Zee’s got his art show first. I gotta go to that, then I’ll be there. You’ll wait for me, right? Won’t have too much fun without me?” 

Zayn fought the urge to roll his eyes at the way Niall’s voice pitched down, but it also did something twisting his stomach, though that might have been what he said. Zayn came first, no matter the girl or how close Niall was to a successful pull. The girl smiled at him, nodding along with his nod, then took a step back. “I’ll see you there,” she said with a wave before bouncing away. Niall watched her go before hooking an arm around Zayn’s waist and guiding them the other way.

“Tonight’s gonna be a great night.” 

Zayn wasn’t exactly convinced, but Niall had his arm around him again and it definitely helped. “But it’s the last one.” 

The smile Niall had slipped a little, but he squeezed Zayn’s side harder. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like it’s goodbye, right? It’s just see ya later. And you’ve got my email and my IM. We’re gonna talk all the time. And next summer, we’ll be right back here again.” 

“You really think so?” Zayn slipped out from under Niall’s arm when they got to the building they were using for the gallery. “You think I’ll be back here again?”

“Don’t see why not. You’re good enough to get in again and if you stay out of trouble, your parents should be fine with sending you, right?” Niall paused and bit at his lip. “You do want to come back, right? You had a good time, right? I know this was supposed to be sort of a punishment, but I tried to make sure you had fun and -” 

Whatever else Niall was going to say was cut off when Zayn grabbed him, another crushing hug with his arms around Niall’s neck. “Of course I want to come back. Of course I’ve had fun. I’ll come back. Even if it means I have to be good.” 

“It’s not like you were bad, right? Just got caught. Don’t get caught next time.” Niall poked his side until Zayn let go then grabbed his hand to pull him into the gallery. Zayn stuck to Niall’s side as he looked around at everything, taking in all the artwork, chatting with people he knew briefly, which meant he was talking to just about everyone. Still, Zayn could tell Niall was on a mission, making his way through the pieces on display until he found Zayn’s. It was neat, the way he didn’t ask where it was or what he was looking for, he just wandered until he found his friend’s artwork. Of course, it was nearly impossible to miss. The canvas was huge, but it hadn’t looked nearly as large in the oversized studio as it did in the smaller gallery. Here it took up a whole wall and had Niall stopping short in front of it. Zayn bit his lip as Niall took the painting in, walking the length of the canvas then back, moving up closer before taking a few steps back so he was standing with Zayn again. Zayn held his breath, wondering what the other boy would think of the piece he inspired, wary that he might not like it. 

After a moment though, Niall nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, if they don’t let you in next year, they’re completely mental. This is the best thing in here. Hands down, without a doubt.” 

Zayn couldn’t contain his grin, which matched Niall’s. “You like it?” 

“No, I love it,” Niall said before dragging Zayn into a headlock. “You’re, like, so talented it hurts and I don’t know if I can keep being friends with you.” 

“Says the guy that just wooed an entire auditorium with an original piece,” Zayn grumbled form somewhere around Niall’s chest, but it didn’t stop him from grinning still. Niall loved it. Niall inspired it and Niall loved it. 

“Well, when you put it that way, I believe we need to go celebrate,” Niall insisted a little too loudly and Zayn tried to hush him, but it was hard to do when he was laughing and grinning. “Come on, artist. Let’s go! We have a final night to celebrate.” Niall pushed his nose into Zayn’s hair as he laughed as well and briefly Zayn wondered what they looked like, if people would think they were something more than just friends, and that it didn’t quite bother them. 

Actually, he hoped someone thought that. 

That was a new set of feelings if there ever was one. 

\----------

Niall’s girl found him as soon as they got to the party, pulling him away after handing Zayn a cup of something. He’d laughed, squeezing Zayn’s hand before following after her. There’d been an ache in Zayn’s chest at the loss, but one of the other kids from his art studio found him before it could get too painful. He was pulled towards several others and handed a joint that was being passed around. He took a hit and settled in on the floor, feet tucked under him, taking hits off whatever was passed, enjoying as the warmth of the buzz slipped over him leaving everything feeling fuzzy and hazy in the best sort of way. 

He had no idea where or when Niall came back, but suddenly there he was, wobbling until he fell onto the ground next to him, head in Zayn’s lap, grinning up at him. “You’re stoned,” Niall said. “You get that silly grin when you’re stoned.” 

Zayn laughed, but it was more of a subdued chuckled. “You’re slurring,” he said slowly, but his eyes were stuck on Niall’s mouth. He must have hooked up with the girl because his lips were red, kiss bitten and looking more appealing than they’d ever looked. “What did you get up to?” He didn’t want to know, but at the same time, he kind of did. 

“Lesley,” Niall said with a grin, licking his lips and Zayn mimicked the motion without even realizing he was doing it. 

“Good?” 

“Good enough.” Niall leaned up, ruffling his fingers through Zayn’s hair. Normally Zayn would hate that, but it was Niall with his perfect mouth and he was stoned enough to not care. “Better now though.” 

Zayn’s stomach flipped at that, leaning into Niall’s hand. “You wanna stay at mine?” 

“Where else would I go?” Niall got up, pulling at his arm to drag Zayn up with him. “C’mon. Let’s go now.” 

“And leave the party?” Zayn still found his feet as Niall pulled, knowing full well he was going no matter what. 

“It’s not much of a party anymore.” Niall waved around them and Zayn looked, blinking. People had paired off here and there, others had crashed, curling against one another or on whatever furniture was available. Somehow, Zayn had missed most of it waiting for Niall. “C’mon,” he said again, pulling at Zayn’s hand until Zayn was tucked under his arm even if he really had to stand on tiptoes to manage it. Zayn slouched so he fit better, wrapping an arm around Niall’s waist and keeping him close. 

Back in Zayn’s room, they were a tumbling mess stripping out of clothes, all elbows and knees until they found the right place in bed, Zayn’s head resting on Niall’s bare shoulder, foot hooked around his ankle, arm draped across his stomach. He doubted other mates did this, curled into bed together, mostly undressed, without it meaning they were more than mates, but he wasn’t entirely sure where he stood with Niall anyway. Sometimes, it felt like more than mates; other times, it felt like best friends, just like any other pair of best friends there was out there. Zayn brushed his fingers along where Niall’s hip jutted out, making the other boy giggle and bury his face in Zayn’s hair. “Stop. Tickles.” 

That he hadn’t asked Zayn to stop because it was too much made Zayn wonder, made him curious if he could get away with more, if he could press his face into Niall’s neck, kiss at the skin there, the same way he would a girl. If Niall would make the same noises. If Niall would make better ones. Just when he was getting up the guts to try it though, Niall ran his fingers through his hair, petting him gently and distracting him from everything that wasn’t that steady motion. “Gonna miss you, Zee,” Niall mumbled, somewhere around Zayn’s hairline. He could feel his warm breath on his skin, an odd invitation for a quiet moment. 

“Gonna miss you too, Nialler.” Zayn wanted to say more, but Niall was still petting his hair and it was like some sort of sleeping pill, dragging him down with how soothing it felt, how perfect it felt, and before he could say more, sleep pulled him under.


	2. Chapter 2

The Skype incoming call alert was already going off on Zayn’s computer when he got to his room, dropping his bag by the door before closing it behind him and, just for good measure, locking it. The stupid computerized trill of a ring kept going off as he collapsed into his chair, waking the ancient laptop up and clicking on the ‘accept call’ button. It wasn’t really much of a laptop anymore since it had to be plugged in and he didn’t have the spare money for a new battery, but the hand-me-down computer had been a blessing because it meant that when he clicked on the right button, Niall’s face was there, munching on something and waving animatedly at the screen. 

“You’re late!” 

“I’m three minutes later than usual. My teacher stopped me on the way out of class, which meant I caught a later bus home. Chill.” Zayn grinned back though, unable not to at the sight of Niall. He tugged at his uniform tie, trying to get it off. Normally he got home in time to change before their video chats, but today he was going to have to do that on camera. 

“Is that what you have to wear to school?” Niall asked, his face getting larger in the screen as he leaned closer into it. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s the same as yours.” He nodded towards Niall who was still in his own, tie half undone, his with stripes of yellow and black instead of Zayn’s blue and silver, but essentially the same.

“I know, but I’ve never seen you in it!” Niall tilted his head and Zayn slowed in his process of undoing his tie.

“What?” 

Niall shrugged. “It’s just not fair that you’re ridiculously good looking in a school uniform. You actually look like you should be on the set of Harry Potter. But like not too close to Daniel Radcliffe because you’re better looking.” 

Zayn ducked and turned his head to hide the blush that brought on. He’d heard it before, but hearing it from Niall was something else entirely and his mind wasn’t quite sure how to process it. It seemed best to ignore it, so he did that, pulling at his tie and getting up to change his shirt. “I’ll take it off since it’s so offensive. How was your day?” 

“Never said offensive,” Niall called back. “Day was fine. Same as any other. I hate how much _school_ is apparently required to be in sixth form. I want to study music. Maths feels like a waste of my talents.” Zayn pulled his shirt off, tossing it away and not thinking anything of it until Niall let out a wolf whistle. 

“What?” 

Niall shrugged, grin on his face again. “Oh...wait...what’s that?” He was leaning into the screen more and Zayn instinctively looked down at his chest, eyes landing on what Niall had seen. The tattoo was new, something he’d had to half con the guy into doing because he was underage, but he was glad it had worked out. His fingers went to it, then he pulled them away, shrugging. 

“Tattoo.” 

“You got a tattoo and you didn’t think to tell your best friend about it?” Niall demanded, glaring at Zayn through the computer screen. Only, when Niall glared, it was more of narrowed look that seemed slightly less jovial than his normal look. Zayn had learned over the summer the only way to get him to look truly annoyed was to steal his food and even then he looked mostly harmless. 

Grabbing a clean shirt off the floor, he tugged that on then undid his uniform pants, going for a pair of sweats once those were discarded. “I dunno. It’s a secret. Mum hasn't seen it yet, or my sisters, so the idea was to keep them from noticing until I was old enough.” Even then he wasn’t sure they would love the idea of him having tattoos, but at least he would be old enough to make his own decisions. 

“Let me see it again,” Niall insisted, narrowed look replaced with curiosity. Zayn pulled down the collar of the t-shirt he’d put on so Niall could see the script there. “What’s it say?” 

“It’s my grandfather’s name in Arabic.” The admission was heavy enough that Niall paused, eyes and smile softening. Despite the distance between them, he’d been there when Zayn lost it over the death, the first in his family, and had sympathized as best he could. “It helps me...deal.” 

Niall nodded, determined look on his face. “Well, then good. Great. It looks awesome. Did it hurt?” 

Zayn smirked a little. “Like hell. But it was also really cool feeling at the same time? I dunno. I know I want more.” 

“You’re nuts. It hurt but it felt cool? You have to understand that you sound insane.” Niall had gone back to eating and was talking around a mouth full of crisps now, which meant everything was back to normal. 

“Why? Don’t you want one?” Zayn didn’t know many people who didn’t want them, except maybe a few girls, but even most of the girls wanted them. 

“No. I mean...yes, it would look so cool to adorn my alabaster doll-like skin with marks and artwork, but the idea of _pain_ for fun sounds awful and I absolutely hate needles. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll just enjoy yours.” 

“Enjoy mine, eh?” Zayn let his shirt go back to where it belonged and pulled his knees up towards his chest. “Alabaster’s a big word,” he added with a tease in his voice. 

“Yeah, enjoy yours. Also I know it is. We were talking about it in Lit the other day and when someone asked what it meant, the teacher pointed at me. Can’t forget it now.” 

Zayn tried not to laugh at that, but Niall was laughing and rolling his eyes as well, which was permission enough. He crossed his arms over his knees, resting his cheek against them and watching Niall’s head tilt with him to keep him upright. “Wish you were closer, Nialler.” He wished it a lot. Like in the common room when he sat with his friends, sketching the edges of Niall’s smile, or when someone made a joke that he knew the other boy would laugh at. Once one of his friends had nicked one of his chips and Zayn had just barely managed not to call him Niall and wound up with a pinched look on his face. Zayn didn’t even have an excuse as to why he looked the way he did, not something anyone who didn’t know Niall would understand so he’d waved it off and pushed the whole plate closer. 

Everything reminded him of Niall or something he wanted to tell him and the Skype calls twice a week and emails weren’t enough. They didn’t make up for the fact that his friend was too far away and Zayn missed him every waking second. He knew Niall missed him back, but guessed it wasn’t to the extent that Zayn felt, which kept him silent on the matter. 

“Wish you were too. There’s a sick party this weekend I would drag you to. And introduce you to Bonnie’s best friend that hates me. You could probably charm her half to death and she’d stop getting in the way of us dating.” Bonnie was Niall’s newest conquest and, just like always, Zayn wondered how Niall could call him good looking and in less than ten minutes start prattling on about some bird. 

“I’m not sure I’d be any good at that,” Zayn commented, shaking his head but not enough to move it from where he was. 

“Of course you would. You don’t even have to talk and people want to be friends with you, want to be close to you, or just have you look at them. It’s amazing. She’d not even realize we’d wandered off because she’d be too busy staring into your soulful eyes.” 

“You’re full of it.” 

“Half full at best,” Niall said with a wink before he was grinning again. “Oh! Started working on a new song.” He got up from his desk, disappearing out of screen for a moment then came back, guitar in hand. “Mind if I play for you? See what you think?” 

“Never. Go on,” Zayn said, smiling and getting himself more comfortable to listen. This was really what their calls were about, bouncing music and art back and forth at one another and supporting the other through essays and exams. By the time Niall had started playing, Zayn had completely forgotten about the girl he’d been going on about and was lost in the song. 

\-------

“Who are you drawing now?” Elaine dropped herself over Zayn’s shoulders where he was hunched over his sketchbook in the common room during lunch, head bumping into his, knees pressing into his back. He was working on the edges of Niall’s hair, more a cartoon version of him, next to a few cartoon versions of Elaine and Brody, his friend sitting across from him. 

“Niall. I told you about him.” Elaine made a face like she was thinking that Zayn could only barely see out of his periphery, but he knew the hum that went with it well enough. 

“From your summer torture. That’s right.” 

“Not torture, El,” he corrected as she half rolled onto the bench next to him, pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes.

“Whatever. It sounded dull, but we all assume you love the idea of classes in the summer given the glassy-eyed look you get when you talk about it.” 

“It’s not boring.” 

Elaine leveled a look at him then leaned in, bright smile in place. “Love, you are boring.” She kissed him then grinned before turning so she could sit properly and rest her head on his shoulder. Zayn chuckled a little and reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together before going to back to doodling. He’d started dating her not long after Niall finally got things straight with Bonnie. It wasn’t really for that reason, she’d liked him for a while, but he hadn’t gone for it until it seemed that Niall was settling. She was exactly what Zayn had avoided in girls since he’d met Niall, blonde hair, bright personality, full of jokes and talkative. He wasn’t saying out loud or even thinking who that reminded him of, because it wasn’t a thing. It was one guy and just because he felt like _the_ guy, there wasn’t a need to turn everything around and change how things had always been. So he went out with Elaine, who jumped at the idea of being asked, and enjoyed himself. He wasn’t in love, but no one was expecting him to be. 

“I’m too mysterious to be boring,” Zayn countered, which got a laugh out of Elaine who kissed his shoulder and smiled up at him. Smiling back at her was easy, she was easy to smile at. And he liked her, he did; it just wasn’t quite the same. Maybe he was looking for too much in a girlfriend. He didn’t have to be as close to her as he did his best friend, right? No. That would just be weird. 

“Of course you are.” She smiled up at him, and Zayn hated that what he noticed was that her eyes weren’t blue. They were brown, a lighter shade, but still not blue. It was just a thing, a small thing, but it was enough to tighten the smile at the corners of his mouth and have him turn back to his sketches. “We look like comic strip characters,” she mused, looking over his shoulder as he made Niall’s hair stand up a little. He’d started wearing it like that, not the blonde mess of half swoop he’d had when Zayn met him. 

“That’s what I was going for. Good practice with a different style.” 

Elaine nodded, thankfully not asking more. They were characters in a little strip that Zayn had taken to doing a couple of days a week, mostly in the back of classes, but it was completely for Niall, a fun way to share what had been going on with him. Niall loved it, always looking forward to the next strip just like he had with the mini comic over the summer, but Zayn had no idea how to explain it to her without sounding insane. Or like he had a crush on his best friend who lived in another country. So...insane. 

After a moment, she started talking to someone else, still holding his hand, but letting him work in silence. For all her not being Niall (not that he was comparing because who did that?), she was pretty great in how she knew when to pester and get him to talk and when to just sit next to him doing her own thing while he did his. And it wasn’t like he didn’t like her, he did. When they were alone and he was inching his hand up her shirt or skirt, he loved every moment of it. Thoughts of Niall and his bright laugh were forgotten and Zayn was holding on to that. He was just like everyone else, with a cute girlfriend he wanted to kiss and touch. His thoughts about his best friend were just fleeting ideas, curiosity that was completely one-sided. It would fade eventually. 

Zayn shifted closer to Elaine, still drawing, and rested his head on hers, getting a soft sigh from her in return. He moved away from the Niall drawing and went back to drawing her at a different angle, holding his hand this time.

\------

The Skype alert was going off again. Zayn frowned, glancing at his phone to check the time before clicking accept on the call. He had time to finish getting ready for his date with Elaine if he kept it up while he talked to Niall. “We don’t usually talk on Fridays,” he said to the mirror, not looking at the computer screen just yet, trying to fix his hair, but the sniff on the other end had him turning around. 

“Sorry, mate. Just, uhh… dunno.” Niall’s skin was paler than usual with dark circles under red-rimmed eyes. Zayn abandoned his hair and dropped in front of the desk, hand going up to touch his friend’s face before he pulled back, remembering it was just the monitor. 

“What happened?” Zayn had never seen Niall sad before. Even when they were leaving art camp, he’d been smiling. He was eager to get home, tell everyone about Zayn, and he knew he’d talk to Zayn between now and then. There wasn’t a reason to be sad, he said, but he’d still hugged Zayn tightly. 

“Bonnie,” Niall said with a shrug. That was new. Zayn had never seen him broken up over a girl before, though Bonnie had lasted most of the year, which was different from the Niall of the summer, but Zayn had figured he was just waiting on the right girl. 

“Yeah? She okay?” 

“Yeah, she’s great. With another guy.” 

Ouch. Zayn bit his lip, then looked back at his phone. “Hang on just a sec, Nialler, okay?” Niall nodded and Zayn put him on mute then dialled Elaine, turning away so Niall didn’t have to watch him talk to someone else. 

“Hey! You’re not here yet, are you? I’m not ready.” 

“No, not there yet, actually...I suck, but I can’t tonight.” Zayn could all but hear Elaine frown on the other end of the line. There was just something about her that made her emotions so clear even if he couldn’t see her face. 

“No? My parents are out tonight. We had a plan, Zayn.” Zayn knew exactly what that plan was. He’d lost his virginity to her in a rush attempt at getting it over with in his bedroom last month, trying to hurry before his mother and the girls came home and she had to leave. With her parents out though, the idea was to take their time and do it right, but one glance at Niall had him shaking his head. 

“I might be able to later, but I can’t. There’s something I’ve got to do.” 

“Zayn…” 

“Please, El. You know I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important.” 

“What is it then?” 

Zayn paused. He didn’t know how to answer that. He was passing up sex, actual sex, to Skype with Niall while Niall dealt with being dumped. Yeah, he was crazy, but it was _Niall_. That was just what you did. Maybe. It was what Zayn did. And Niall would do the same. 

"It’s Niall, isn’t it?” 

Elaine had beat him to the punch, figuring it out before he could give her hand answer. He must have paused too long in saying something. “He got cheated on, El.” 

On the other end of the line, Elaine let out a loud huff of a breath and Zayn could hear her mumbling, which probably meant she’d pulled the phone away from her mouth to complain about him. He really hoped she was talking to herself and there wasn’t someone else there. “Fine. It’s always him first, right?” 

“El…” 

“No. Don’t. It’s not worth fighting about. Go. See you Monday.” Zayn opened his mouth to correct her, that he'd make a point to see her that weekend, but the line had gone dead. He was left staring at his phone for a long moment before he went back to the computer and turned mute off, finding Niall with his head down on his desk, just watching the screen. 

“Everything okay?” Niall asked, not sitting up yet, just ticking his eyes upward to meet Zayn’s. 

“Everything’s fine. Just had to cancel plans tonight. Tell me what happened. And if you’ve eaten today.” 

“Like I’d let some girl keep me from eating,” Niall said sounded offended, but he sighed and sat up again to launch into his story. Zayn settled in the way he always did, knees up to his chest, listening intently and reassuring where he needed to. Eventually they fell asleep still on the line and when the sun came into his room in the morning, he blinked away at the sight of Niall, crashed out on his bed, curled in a ball, pillow twisted under him the same way he used to sleep on Zayn’s shoulder. It shouldn’t have made him feel so warm all over, but it did. 

On Monday, Elaine didn’t sit with him in the common room. He thought it was nothing, watching her animatedly talk to her friends, just assuming it was some sort of girl talk that needed to happen right then, but it happened again at lunch and during the free period they both that at the end of the day. He ventured over to her, meaning to ask, but the look he got from across the room sent him back to the corner he’d been in. By Wednesday, he got the clue and realized he’d been dumped. Thank god the year was almost over.


	3. Chapter 3

When he got off the train in Oxford, it was a completely different feeling from when he’d been there the year before. Then he’d been scared, homesick, and nervous, but this time he was thrilled. He pulled one suitcase behind him, backpack on his back and oversized art portfolio on one shoulder, hurrying as fast as his rolling suitcase could navigate the cobblestones, rushing towards the doors of the college he’d be staying at. This time at registration the girl didn’t look at him like he was someone to be wary of, but more like he was someone to drool on and she practically did, which just made him smile more for her, just to see her blush a little. She gave him his room information as well as Niall’s, who was down the hall from him again this year since both of them had written that they had to be neighbors all over their applications. 

The campus was the same, sun catching the perfectly manicured green lawn that wasn’t to be touched, ivy crawling up walls of the older buildings, stone walls that hid cool spots in their shady walkways, but warmed up in the summer sun. Outside of his actual house, nowhere else felt as much like home as the campus did and Zayn knew why. He dropped his things in his room, digging the small box wrapped in Spiderman paper out of his backpack and headed down the hall to Niall’s room.

He barely had to knock before the door was open and he was wrapped up in a mess of blonde hair, strong arms, and something that smelled oddly like fresh chips. Niall practically twirled them around the room before letting go standing back to look at Zayn. “You’re taller than me…” he said, making a face. 

“I think I’ve always been taller than you,” Zayn said with a laugh. 

“Not like this.” Niall stepped in closer and Zayn forgot how to breathe for a moment. He wasn’t much shorter, but enough that Zayn had to angle his eyes down to see Niall’s bright blue ones looking up at him. “I don’t know if I like it.” He could feel the puff of breath that came with the words and it took everything in him not to push past that last little bit of distance between them. He didn’t have a clue what he’d do once he was there, but he definitely wanted to be closer. 

“I do.” The words weren’t as steady sounding as Zayn would have liked and for a long moment something lingered between them, hanging there in the air, but then Zayn was pulling back holding up the box between them. “Brought you something.” 

Niall frowned at the box, but took it anyway. “I didn’t know we were doing gifts…” 

“We weren’t,” Zay corrected. “It’s like an early birthday gift, but it’s something you could use while you’re here you know? No point in you not having it.” 

Niall looked confused, but opened the box anyway, ripping away the paper and then the top. The bag inside had more guitar picks than Niall could use in a year, but when apparently specialized designs came in bulk. “See look, I designed the logo for them,” Zayn explained, picking one out and holding it out so Niall could see. It was small, but a cartoony version of Niall’s face, big smile and stick up hair, with an NH behind him. “Like a proper rockstar, yeah?” 

“Definitely yeah!” Niall took the pick, then looked back in the box. “There’s hundreds in here.” 

“Yeah, like three hundred. That was the smallest order, but I thought, now you always have me around when you’re playing.” It was a sappy sort of thing to say, but Zayn couldn’t help it and thankfully Niall didn’t care because he was hugging him again, practically barreling them over with it. 

“This is easily the coolest thing anyone has ever given me ever,” Niall said, somehow still managing to keep his arms half around Zayn and look at the picks again. There was a brief moment of quiet between them, just long enough that Zayn almost turned to look at Niall before Niall was smacking a wet kiss against Zayn’s cheek. Zayn pulled his way out from under him, making a face and wiping at his cheek, but he couldn’t hide the blush. 

“Glad you like it. Thought it might be too much, but…” Niall grabbed him before he could finish the thought, pulling him close to his side. 

“No. It’s perfect. Thank you.” Zayn blushed again and hid his face in Niall’s neck. They lingered like that for a moment before Niall rubbed the back of Zayn’s neck. “Wanna see what they have to eat around here?” If it weren’t for the way Niall’s voice was hushed it would have been like any moment, Niall hungry again. 

Zayn appreciated it though, it cut the tension and cooled the warmth on his cheeks. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Wicked,” Niall said, bumping his hip into Zayn’s and setting the box of picks on his desk. He grabbed Zayn’s arm, pulling him towards the door, but not before Zayn caught him pocketing one of the picks to carry with him. 

\-------

“Still think you need to convince the boyfriend to play with us,” Chuck said as he and Niall kicked the ball back towards Zayn, who caught it this time and shrugged. Chuck had slipped back into calling him Niall’s boyfriend in less than a day and just like the year before, neither one of them had corrected him. “Look at him. There’s no way he’s that out of shape.” 

Zayn laughed from his spot on the grass, shading his eyes to look up at them. “I’m not that bad. Just not big on sports.” 

“You’re missing out.” Niall dropped half in Zayn’s lap, sweaty and pinked cheeked rubbing his damp hair in Zayn’s face until Zayn pushed him off. 

“On being sweaty and gross? Hardly.” Niall just laughed, rolling around to add grass to his already disheveled look and Zayn made a point of poking him in the side with the toe of his trainer which just made Niall giggle more. 

“Good to see you two are just as weird as before.” 

Zayn stopped poking Niall, half because Niall’s hand was wrapped around Zayn’s ankle and half because of what Chuck had said. “What do you mean?” 

Chuck looked between them, then waved as if indicating them as a whole. “Just weird. You’re weird. It’s cool, whatever it is, just weirdest boyfriends ever.” 

“We’re not…” Zayn started, realizing it was the first time anyone had denied it. 

“So?” Niall asked, still holding on to Zayn and either he was imagining things or the grip got a little tighter. “We work. It’s not something to be worried about.” 

Chuck shrugged. “Wasn’t worried. Just good to know it’ll be like this again this summer.” 

Niall nodded. “Sure will. Get used to it, sucker.” 

Zayn expected the worst, Chuck to say something else, but he just rolled his eyes and laughed. “Whatever, dudes. I’ve gotta get to classes. Catch you two later.” He waved once over his shoulder while he left, leaving Zayn and Niall alone. Zayn was so caught up in Niall not denying them being together that he didn’t realize Niall had moved until his head was in Zayn’s lap and he was tugging at Zayn’s shirt. 

“Asked you a question.” 

“Huh? Did you?” Zayn hadn’t even heard it. 

“Yeah. Was wondering if you had studio this afternoon or if you were free.” 

“Oh, um, no, no studio. I’ve got work to do, but I don’t have to be there. Why?” 

“Yeah? Great. I was thinking you’d come by the practice rooms with me? I’ve got some new stuff I want you to hear.” 

Zayn was having trouble keeping up because he was still stuck on what Niall hadn’t said. “Are we boyfriends?” he blurted, not sure he’d meant to ask that, but it was right there and all he could think of. 

Niall looked up at him, not showing if he was surprised at the question. “I don’t care what they say. I like us how we are. I don’t want anything to change.” 

It wasn’t the kind of answer that he should just take, he knew that, but at the same time, didn’t he feel that same way? He didn’t care what anyone thought. He’d gotten over that the previous summer and even then, it hadn’t been a huge issue. He liked Niall, a lot, and Niall liked what they had. It was his head in Zayn’s lap, it was falling asleep watching movies together, it was being curled up in one another and that was what he wanted. Whatever everyone else called them didn’t matter. Niall always wound up back with him. “Yeah no, I don’t want anything to change either,” he said. “Well, except the part where you’re gross and laying on me.” Zayn pushed at Niall getting his sweaty head off of him and let out a relieved breath when Niall started laughing at him again and tackled him, trying to rub his damp hair in his face again. Maybe it should bother him, but everything was back to normal and normal was always better. 

\------

Normal, though, wasn’t always ideal. Zayn was sitting with Chuck at a small table in the pub. In the summers, the university pubs were usually almost empty except for whatever event was in town. There was a group of American study abroad students there that night, staying at another college in town, being rowdy in one corner. They were a godsend because the pubmaster wasn’t bothering with looking at the fakes Niall had gotten them, just eager to see someone who wasn’t playing Oasis on the jukebox for the thousandth time. Only Niall had wandered himself into the middle of the Americans and was currently making some girl with dark hair giggle at every word he said. Zayn’s cider had gone warm because he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to keep drinking and not go over there and remind Niall who he belonged to. 

Of course, really, Niall didn’t belong to anyone, people weren’t possessions and least of all he wasn’t even with Zayn, but when Niall tucked the girl’s hair over her ear, it felt like something inside of him was being ripped away. He sighed a little too loudly, which got him a look from Chuck, but he shook his head to try and push it away. Chuck gave him a different more questioning look, then spotted Niall, and rolled his eyes muttering something that sounded like ‘weird’ before getting up and going to the bar for another round. Zayn supposed he deserved that. The truth was, if anything, he belonged to Niall. Niall had his hand wrapped around Zayn’s heart and he held his happiness in the grip he had on it. Zayn looked away when Niall leaned in more, teasing at kissing the girl. Zayn couldn’t watch. Not anymore. 

Chuck was a good man, setting down another drink in front of Zayn, which let Zayn focus on that and his phone, despite the fact that two girls had followed Chuck over, wanting to talk to both of them. Zayn was probably being a jerk, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to flirt with girls tonight. Not that it mattered, Chuck was holding court well enough on his own and Bejeweled was keeping Zayn’s attention enough that he didn’t need to look up and see where Niall was, at least not until Chuck was elbowing his side. “Leaving, mate,” he said nodding towards the two girls who were giggling a few feet away. 

“Both of them?” 

“Jealous?” Chuck leered at him. 

“More impressed.” 

Chuck shrugged and punched him a touch too hard on the shoulder. “I owe you. You were the one ignoring the spare. Now I get both. Cheers, mate.” 

Zayn nodded, rubbing his arm. “Where’s Nialler?”

“Left twenty minutes ago. You’re on your own.” Of course he was. Zayn nodded and waved as Chuck left. He sighed, finished off his pint and headed back to the college alone, hands shoved in his pockets. It was a quiet walk, making Zayn wonder what it would be like to be in Oxford during the proper school terms, the streets full of students out for the evening, not just the few outside the Kebab Kid in the square. There’d be more of them probably. And their accents would be English, not American like the ones shouting. 

Of course, on another night when there weren’t cute American girls around, it would be himself and Niall out there. Niall loved to eat after they’d been drinking, well he always loved to eat, but especially then and they’d been on campus less than two weeks and he’d already drug Zayn to the same shop three times. The thought left him holding his chest, aching more than he wanted to, and he fished in his back pocket for the packet of cigarettes and his lighter. He shouldn’t, he knew, but it gave him something to do with his hands and something to focus on when he was walking that wasn’t the realization that he was more upset that Niall had found someone to hook up with than the fact that he hadn’t. 

His room felt empty when he made it back there, which was silly considering he didn’t actually share it with Niall. Sure, there was a pile of his things in one corner, spare shirts and trainers, and a couple of his guitar picks on Zayn’s desk, mixed in with pens and pencils. Zayn sighed and opened the window, sitting on the super wide sill and lighting up again with his sketchbook in his lap. He debated on what to work on for a long moment, taking slow drags off the cigarette before he made a decision and started drawing, cigarette between his teeth. It started slow, light lines and swirls, but as he kept at it, some of the lines got darker, wrapped around the heart in the middle. He’d chained smoked for a couple of hours, watching the drawing come to life until he couldn’t keep his eyes open and he dumped it on his desk and fell into bed still dressed. 

\-----

When his alarm went off a few hours later, Zayn woke up with his face pressed against warm, bare skin, pale with freckles scattered about. He frowned, pushing up more to turn the alarm off and stare at the groaning figure under him. Niall was there, shirtless and sprawled on his stomach. Zayn had been laying across his back, using him as a pillow instead of the real pillow that Niall had his arms wrapped around. “Ni?” Zayn rubbed his eyes, certain he’d gone to bed alone.

“Hate morning,” Niall grumbled shoving his face more into Zayn’s pillow. 

“You weren’t here last night, were you?” 

“Your door was unlocked,” Niall said, muffled from the pillow. “You were asleep and my room was too far away.” He groaned again then sat up, stretching before crawling off the bed. He was in just his boxers, something that was distracting enough that Zayn just stayed where he was. 

“What about the girl?” 

Niall shrugged, pulling on his jeans and reaching for his shirt. “What’s this?” he asked instead, yanking the t-shirt over his head and looking at the sketchbook Zayn had left out the night before. 

“Just a doodle.” He didn’t want Niall to ask about it, already getting up to reach for it and cover it up.

“I’ve seen your doodles and while they make everyone else’s look like babies with crayons, but this is something else. What is this?” Niall had it in his hands, tilting it as he studied it, looking ridiculous with his shirt only around his neck. 

“A thing, nothing important.” He reached for the book, but Niall took it away. That was the thing about Niall. He was Zayn’s biggest supporter, always there to admire and compliment Zayn’s work, but he was also Zayn’s biggest muse and what Zayn had drawn the night before was exactly how he felt about his best friend. The lines that wrapped around his heart in the middle were a mix of light and dark, the light lines happy, fun,carefree. They were full of swirls and brightness, the way it felt to be around Niall when it was just the two of them. The dark lines were the opposite, stormy and wrapped tighter around the heart. There were more light than dark, but the dark lines twisted more times around the heart. He loved the good, but the bad made things harder. So much harder. 

Niall didn’t speak and wouldn’t let Zayn have his artwork back, not for a long while. And with each passing breath Zayn hated himself and the drawing more. He should have put it away, but he had no idea that Niall would pick his bed to crawl into in the middle of the night. Still saying nothing, he set it down and looked at Zayn seriously, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you okay?” 

_No._ “Yeah, of course. Tired, cause I hate mornings.” Zayn tried to pawn it off and reached for the book, closing it so the his heart wasn’t just there, laying open for the world to see. For the person that mattered the most to see. 

“You don’t...that doesn’t seem okay.” Niall looked at the closed book and frowned. “That doesn’t seem happy.” 

“Not everyone’s happy all the fucking time like you, Nialler.” 

Niall’s face fell more and Zayn wanted to kick himself for it. It was like the time he’d called Zayn on skype when he’d been crying only this time it was Zayn’s fault. 

“I’m not happy all the time.” 

“Why? Because sometimes you’re hungry?” Zayn snapped, hating that he kept doing it. He needed to put space between them before he said something really cruel. He wasn’t mad at Niall, he was mad at himself. He was the one that had fallen for his best friend, not the other way around. “I’m gonna take a shower. See if I can wake up. I’ve got class.” He grabbed his towel and headed for the bathroom. 

In the shower he stood under the water until it went cool, heading back into his room to find it empty. He should have expected that. There was no reason for Niall to stick around when Zayn was being a dick. He sighed at the empty space and grabbed his things to go to class. 

\-------

After class Niall wasn’t in their usual meeting space. Zayn wandered until he spotted him, deep in a footie game on one of the practice fields they usually avoided because the people who played there took it too seriously. Zayn stayed in the shadows of the trees that lined the field, waiting to see if Niall looked like he realized Zayn was missing. He seemed mostly fine, smile on his features, but once or twice Zayn thought it didn’t go all the way to his eyes. But Niall was over here, not where they usually met up and he was playing football with different guys than his usual group and Zayn knew it was a sign. 

He left the practice fields and went back to the studio. With classes being over for the day it was mostly empty and anyone that was there didn’t approach him as he banged around in cabinets looking for paint, branching out beyond the spray paint he usually used. Once he had an armful he stormed back into the side studio Sawyer had set him up in again so he didn’t kill everyone with spray paint fumes and dumped everything on his working table, then dug around for more containers from her stash and his.

By the time Sawyer found him he was through three canvases in nothing but grays and blacks, each with a red heart in the middle, either drowning in the dark, lost in it, or tied up by it. She cleared her throat and he spun around, almost dropping the spray paint can like he had the night he'd been caught tagging. Zayn expected her to talk, to lecture, something, but she just wandered towards him, looking at what he was working on and nodding. “I’ve got to send you home. It’s after dark,” she said nodding towards the windows. She hadn’t looked up from his paintings, but seemed pleased with what he’d done; she didn’t ask, didn’t prod. Maybe she’d worked with enough artists in her time to know when to ask and when to just let someone work something out on canvas. “Take a break,” she finally said. “Get a fresh start tomorrow.” 

Zayn wanted to protest, but he knew he couldn’t tell her no and now that he’d stopped he felt exhausted. He trudged his way back to his dorm, falling asleep as soon as he made it to his bed, trying not to think about the fact that he was sleeping in his clothes the second night in a row. 

In the morning, Niall wasn’t there. Zayn had hoped he might pull the same thing he had the night before, but no such luck. Niall wasn’t there to drag him to breakfast so Zayn skipped it, heading to the studio instead, grabbing a Coke from the machine on the way there. He set himself up to work again, slower this time though, with the drawing he’d done that had started everything as his guideline. He only took breaks for his classes, hating to walk away from the painting, but finding his way back to it as soon as he could. He worked until dark again, paint on his fingers from where he’d smudged lines by hand, on his shirt, up his arms, and in his hair. Sawyer was there again, hand on his shoulder to stop him from what he was doing. 

“Some of your best work so far, Zayn,” she told him, squeezing his shoulder. 

“I guess.” He appreciated the compliment, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Niall had given him space after finding out what he’d felt in his heart and that hurt more, no matter how beautiful the art. 

“I think, though, you should go fix whatever got broken.” Zayn glanced at his teacher, really taking in her soft, sad smile, the lines around her eyes. She was younger than Teasdale, but there was something in her eyes that said she’d been there, done what Zayn was doing and whatever had him upset wasn’t worth the fight. 

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, looking at his shoes. There was paint on them too, black smudges on the white edges of his Converse. 

“You actually put your broken heart on the page, Zayn. It wasn’t hard to read into.” 

Zayn sighed and nodded, turning away from her to get his bag and pull it over one shoulder. “What if I can’t fix it?” 

“You can. I have faith in you.” When Zayn looked back at Sawyer she was smiling, but not the sad smile from before. “I’ve seen the happy art. I see this part,” she gestured towards the happier lines of the current piece. “It can be fixed. Go on. Get out of my studio.” She waved him away with a little laugh and it was enough to tug at the corners of Zayn’s mouth. The happy parts were perfect, so what if Zayn didn’t have the rest? He had what he had and he didn’t want to change that. Not if it meant not having Niall at all. 

\--------

It took another couple of hours before Zayn felt like he knew what he had to say, how he was going to explain himself and his feelings before he was headed to Niall’s room. Outside the door he froze, trying to remember the speech, but having to pull the folded piece of paper out of his pocket to read through it again. He was sorry, he shouldn’t have snapped, he was just pretty sure he was in love with Niall and he knew Niall didn’t feel the same way, but he didn’t want anything to change between them because not having Niall around was the worst thing ever. Right. He had this. 

Knocking on the door though seemed nearly impossible. He knew Niall was home and alone, he could hear him on the other side, playing guitar and singing softly, stopping every so often then picking up again, which meant he was writing something new. It wasn’t a process that Zayn was very privy to, but he’d seen it in bits and pieces via skype when Niall was playing him new things over the past school year. He’d stop, make notes in the notebook then start again. It was a wonderful thing to watch. Maybe he shouldn’t interrupt it. Zayn turned to leave for the third time, then made himself go back after a few steps. He couldn’t ignore it. He couldn’t keep fighting with Niall. Not when they still had so many more weeks there, still had all that time together that was both too much and not enough. No way. No how. 

He made himself knock on the door before he could walk away again, though the thirty seconds between the knock and Niall opening the door almost had him bolting down the hall back to his room. He stood his ground though, at least until Niall opened the door. There was a long tense moment of _something_ Zayn couldn’t name between them but he knew it carried a significant weight. The speech was on the tip of his tongue, right there, ready to be told, but Niall’s features softened suddenly and the next thing Zayn knew he was in Niall’s arms, not sure if he’d moved forward or Niall had. Someone pushed the door closed behind them, somehow they’d wound up on Niall’s bed, but all Zayn was fully aware of was his face pressed against Niall’s neck, Niall’s pulse just under his skin and his scent filling Zayn’s nose. He shouldn’t forget about the speech in his pocket, he should be saying how he felt, how he’d ruined things by losing his temper, by falling too hard, but when he spoke none of those words came out. “M’sorry,” he mumbled not even sure if Niall could hear him until Niall shook his head. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Just glad you’re back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're at all curious, I based the school they have their program at after [Worcester College part of Oxford University](https://www.worc.ox.ac.uk/%22). It's a lovely place that I went to for a study abroad.


	4. Chapter 4

“Woah, you’re not Niall.” Zayn held up short at the door to his new dorm room at university, frowning at the figure sitting at his desk in an already perfectly done up side of the room. The kid looked up almost too quickly, more like he’d been caught wanking than reading what appeared to be a text book. 

“Um. No.” When he stood he was taller than Zayn, which made Zayn blink, then venture back half a step to look up at him. “I’m Liam.” He held out his hand and tilted his head in a way that appeared to almost shake his hair out of his eyes, but it didn’t quite work how he intended because his hair was too short. “You are...Zen?” 

“Zayn.” It wasn’t the worst bastardization of his name, but Liam flushed hot pink and ducked his head. 

“Sorry. I... shouldn’t have tried.” 

“No worries,” Zayn said instantly, not wanting to upset the guy he’d just met and was apparently living with. “I thought I was with Niall.” 

“You are!” Liam jumped as if he’d been looking for something to do other than focus on his shortcomings with pronunciations and led Zayn to another room off the room that Liam had claimed. “You’re in here. And I’m out here with Josh.” So there were four of them. Zayn dumped his bag on one of the beds, then went back into the hall for the rest, only to find that Liam had already grabbed two of them and was carrying them towards him. “You like Batman?” he asked, gesturing towards the logo Zayn had painted on the side of his portfolio case one day when he was bored. 

“Oh yeah, what’s not to love?” Zayn found himself smiling because Liam was, even if Liam rushed forward to grab the last of the bags that Zayn had drug into the room on his own. 

“Nothing. He’s the best superhero. Or well one of the best. Some days I can’t decide.” Zayn was nodding along until he realized that Liam had slid his suitcases under the bed he picked and was rooting in the box that held his bedding already starting to lay it out on the bed so it could be made. 

“So… You know Josh then?” he asked because he was worried that if he didn’t distract Liam, Liam might try and unpack for him. It might be nice to have someone do all the hard work, but he didn’t know the guy and that was kind of cruel, wasn’t it? It did the job as Liam hesitated and wound up looking down at the bedding he’d just laid out. 

“Um no. Just what I read about him an email he sent me when we got our room assignments? Seems nice enough. I don’t really know anyone here.” 

Zayn opened his mouth to respond, but a shout from down the hall in a thick Irish accent stopped him, grin breaking out on his face. “That would be Nialler then.” 

If it was possible Liam’s shoulders fell more, all but closing in on himself in a way that made him look smaller. “So you know him from before?” 

Zayn couldn’t stop grinning, distantly wondering what Liam’s new posture meant, but too caught up in the fact that he was moments away from seeing Niall after too damn long. “Yeah, from two summers ago. He’s great. Oh and he’s always lying about how much he can drink.” 

Liam nodded, but Zayn could tell something wasn’t right from the way he was biting at his lip. He was just about to chastise him for it, make him stop before he started bleeding, when the door banged open again and his attention was squarely elsewhere. Liam could wait. What mattered in that moment was the armful of Niall he had that was spinning them in circles, laughing and cheering all in Zayn’s face and nothing could have made Zayn happier than just that. 

They hadn’t done the summer together, too old for the program, which meant it had been a long year apart, struggling to keep in contact even more than usual with A-levels and uni applications. They’d both worked their arses off to get into their programs at the sleepy little university and now here they finally were. 

“A whole term!” Niall was half shouting in Zayn’s face, pressing a loud kiss against his cheek and Zayn got his fingers tangled in Niall’s hair, pulling their foreheads together to grin at him. 

“Whole term together and four years. Proper roommates and shit, even.” Niall nodded against his head, arms wrapped around Zayn’s waist to keep him close. 

Zayn had no idea how long they stayed like that, just happy to be close again, nothing more than foreheads pressed together, before Liam cleared his throat. When Zayn finally turned away from Niall, Liam was twisting his fingers in the hem of his shirt, trying to smile but failing miserably. “Shit, Nialler, this is Liam. He lives in the other half of the room.” He nodded towards Liam who waved in what was possibly the most awkward wave any human being had ever attempted. 

“Liam!” Niall let go of Zayn to pounce on Liam who actually squeaked under the pressure of the tackle-hug, blushing hot pink where Zayn could see and still blushing when Niall finally let him go. 

“I...uh. Should study.” Liam put space between himself and Niall who was grinning and just latched back on to Zayn, wrapping his arms around him from behind. 

“Study for what? Classes haven’t even started yet, Li,” Niall said and Zayn forced himself to focus on the conversation and their blushing roommate and not the fact that Niall’s hand was warm against his belly and his voice was perfect when it was right there on his shoulder and not through computer speakers. 

“My classes. I want to get a head start so I don’t fall behind. I mean I will probably still fall behind, but so it doesn’t happen right away.” Liam rubbed at the back of his neck, shaking his head like his hair might fall into his face, but it stayed where it was despite him scowling at it. 

Niall shook his head. “No, too soon for that. Come on, Zee, help me get my things in and we’ll go find food. Just like old times.” 

 

“Carry your own crap in,” Zayn said with no malice in his voice and shaking Niall off to go back to finish making his bed since Liam had already started. 

“Liam’ll help me then,” Niall said, sticking his tongue out at Zayn, but Liam was nodding eagerly and already going for Niall’s bags. Apparently that was just him. Zayn made a note of it for later too, opting to flop on his bed unmade so he could direct Niall until Niall drug him and a protesting Liam off to the dining hall. 

\-------

“So you’re boyfriends, yeah?” 

Josh was the first to ask, though judging by the way Liam turned hot pink from where he was adjusting the angle of the TV to point towards Niall’s bed, he’d thought about it too. Zayn looked up from where his head was in Niall’s lap, biting his lip and not at all sure how to answer. It was like Chuck again, but with a different tone than they were used to. When he looked back at Liam, the brunette had turned, DVD forgotten, to see what the answer would be. 

“Would that be a problem for you, Joshie?” Niall asked, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. 

“Did I say that?” Josh’s voice went up a little in pitch, the sound that Zayn always knew meant he was feeling defensive. Zayn had heard it before from others. 

“No. Just checking,” Niall said before settling back where he’d been and going back to sifting his fingers through Zayn’s hair. 

Josh was apparently so caught off guard by Niall accusing him of being homophobic that he didn’t even realize Niall hadn’t answered the question. He just sat back in Niall’s desk chair to watch the movie. Liam caught it though, the obvious deflection, but when his eyes met Zayn’s, Zayn looked away. He didn’t know how explain to that earnest face just what he and Niall were beyond being best friends. The look didn’t go away after Liam had set up the player and sat on the beanbag so his head was near Zayn’s. In an attempt to diffuse the concern in Liam’s eyes, he reached out and brushed his fingers through his hair, something that made Liam jolt, but after a moment he settled into it, head against the side of the bed.

After the movie, while the others argued over pizza toppings, Zayn ducked away and out of the dorm to sneak a cigarette. It wasn’t really sneaking since he wasn’t hiding the habit from anyone, but since Niall had the list of foods he wouldn’t eat memorized, it was a good chance to grab a moment alone to panic slightly about what Josh had asked. They’d been celebrating the idea of an entire term together since before they’d gotten to uni. It was more than that though; it was four years for a term at a time, with free reign for what to do during the summers and a strong chance that summers would be spent together. They hadn’t called it anything more than it had ever been, but this wasn’t the safe cloud of their art program where people were just used to them, where they thought of them as a duo that hooked up with other people on the side. Zayn wasn’t sure he wanted it to be that again. He’d spent the school year putting something that vaguely resembled an effort into dating girls during the day and wanking to thoughts of Niall fucking him at night. That had been an unexpected interest, but once it was there, it became his favorite go-to fantasy. 

He managed to get the cigarette lit despite the fact that his hands were shaking, pulling in a long drag before slumping against the wall of the dorm, eyes closed. He had to tell him, had to tell him. His heart and his dick weren’t going to make it through the semester untouched and unloved if he didn’t do something about it and he was pretty sure the person who needed to help him survive was Niall. That was the ideal person at least. It just sucked to actually have to tell him how he was feeling. 

“Zayn.” 

The voice was so close to his ear it made him jump, turning so fast he almost fell over, eyes shooting open to find a wide pair of brown ones staring at him. “Liam,” he said on an exhale, holding his chest. “Scared the crap out of me, man.” 

“Sorry.” Liam was probably the only person that could apologize constantly and never look like he didn’t mean it. Zayn hoped he got to a point where he was more confident, he certainly didn’t have a reason not to be, but Zayn was still figuring out how Liam ticked and what made him so unsure of himself. “I just...wanted to tell you that I’m okay with it.” 

Zayn looked around and took another drag off his cigarette. “Okay with what?” 

“With you and Niall. Being boyfriends. I mean I know Niall was worried that Josh had asked because he wasn’t okay with it, but I think he is, we’re just curious.You seem really...close. But you should know I’m okay with it because well…” Liam trailed off, looking at his hands, picking at hangnail on his finger. He brought it up to bite at and Zayn pulled his hand away from his mouth. 

“Well what?” 

Liam looked a tiny bit green, but took a deep breath. “I am too.” It came out on the exhale, one big breath of admission and he winced after he said it, as if he was expecting Zayn to punch him. 

“You are what? Gay?” That was surprising. Well not really given his hair and the effort he seemed to put into the four inches of it that stood up, perfectly styled, but his clothes didn’t really scream gay. That was a lot of plaid and t-shirts for someone who was gay. 

“Yes. Well, no, not really. I still like girls, but guys too. Both. Both’s an option, right?” 

Zayn half laughed then nodded before taking another drag off his cigarette. “Both’s totally an option. I like both too,” he told Liam patting his shoulder. Liam let out a sigh of relief, all but falling against the wall. 

“I hadn’t told anyone before. Just my mum and dad. And this guy...but no one here or at school really,” Liam explained and his voice sounded like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Zayn dug in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, offering it over. Liam clearly hesitated then took it, letting Zayn light it for him before leaning back to take a drag. He coughed as he blew it out and Zayn patted his back until it stopped. “It’s kind of disgusting,” he murmured even as he went back for more. 

“I know. I should quit, but it gives me something to do with my hands when I’m not drawing.” 

Liam nodded with that, like he understood, but Zayn guessed he probably didn’t. Liam was better at staying still, staying focused, than either he or Niall were. “What did your parents say when you told them?” Zayn asked, sure that this might be the only time Liam talked to him about it. 

“Well, I didn’t really tell them as much as they walked in on me snogging my track mate on the couch and I had to explain myself.” 

“Wait. You got caught?” Zayn said with a half laugh, looking over at Liam. “You’re so responsible though!” 

“Not always. Not then. I just really wanted to kiss him.” Liam looked at his feet and shrugged. “Mum cried, but she does that. Said that if I liked girls, there was still hope that I might meet a nice one and settle down. Dad seems to think if we don’t talk about it, it’s not a real thing.” 

Zayn could relate to that and there was a reason he kept his own preferences to himself. “I haven’t told mine. There’s never been a guy so there’s no point in saying something.” 

Liam’s eyes went wide, turning to look at Zayn. “But Niall.” 

Zayn shook his head slowly, waiting until he’d exhaled a small cloud of smoke again before he answered. “Nope. Not Niall. We’re just...us. It works, we like it, but no. Not even him.” When Zayn looked up again, he couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to fall in love with Liam. He’d be a good person to fall for and, in that tiny little instant, Zayn wished he could. Liam would probably love him back, completely and implicitly, and they’d have what he and Niall had but with the kissing and more that Zayn had found himself wanting from Niall. He almost went for it, almost pushed through that small barrier of space between to see what his mouth would taste like, to see if there was a reason boys kissed him beyond his good looks. 

“Wow,” Liam breathed, leaning back against the wall and Zayn felt the moment pass. He hadn’t moved and his chance was gone, but he didn’t feel bad about it. It was probably for the best. “But you still know. Like about guys?” 

“I know,” Zayn confirmed. “Didn’t you?” 

Liam shrugged. “I wondered. I didn’t really know until I got kissed. Then I knew. But I hadn’t thought about it like I had girls before then, you know?” 

Zayn did know, having had his own sexuality sneak up on him, but it hadn’t bothered him so he couldn’t think of it as a jarring thing. It was just another piece of who he was fitting into place. He finished off his cigarette and stubbed it out, tossing the butt into the container for them. “C’mon. Let’s go back in and see what terrible pizza they decided to pick out without us there to keep it in check.” 

\---------

“Do we like this shirt?” Niall asked as he walked into Liam’s half of the room, turning in a circle wearing a weird sort of eurotrash shirt that he seemed to have taken from Josh’s closet.

Zayn looked up from where he was on Liam’s bed, half sketching his roommate who was working on his homework. “It’s...tight?” he tried. It was nice, the way it fit over Niall’s thin torso, but at the same time the weird cowl neck collar was doing nothing for Niall. It barely worked on Josh, but he had broader shoulders to go with it.

“Tight. Tight is good.” Niall nodded, smiling before Liam winced. 

“I think he means form-fitting tight, not the slang term,” he said, trying to sound harmless. Niall looked up at Zayn who shrugged and nodded. 

“Yeah, that was kind of what I meant. What’s wrong with one of your polos? Those look nice.” 

“The problem is that she’s cool and I want to seem cool.” 

“That’s ridiculous, you are cool, Nialler,” Liam said, ever the cheerleader. 

“He’s really not, Liam,” Zayn countered, giving Niall a look. Niall flipped him off then went back into their room to find another shirt. Zayn had thought he’d spend all his time on his bed, even when Niall was getting ready for dates, but after the second week of school, he realized that Niall in a towel on a regular basis was a sort of torture and it was easier to take over Liam’s bed when he could, giving Niall his privacy and saving some of Zayn’s sanity. It was slightly helping the need to wank every free moment he was alone, which was good, because at the rate he was going, he was going to go blind. 

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Liam asked, looking over at Zayn, his serious face on. It hadn’t taken long to figure out what that face was. It was the one he busted out when they really couldn’t decide on movies, or they needed to talk about the crap in the mini-fridges or the clothes scattered everywhere but Liam’s side of the room. Zayn kind of hated Liam’s serious face, but not because of what he would say, more because he worried about letting Liam down. The only face worse than the serious face was the disappointed face. 

“No,” Zayn lied as best he could, but he’d been lying about Niall for a while. He was good at that at least. 

“How does it not?” Liam looked flabbergasted and Zayn wasn’t sure how to explain how he’d just come to terms with the fact that no matter how crazy he was about Niall, nothing was going to happen. 

“What about this one?” Niall came back out in one of Zayn’s shirts and Zayn shook his head before Niall could finish the question. 

“Put my shirt back and put on one of your blue shirts,” he said waving Niall back into their room without looking up. Niall made a noise of frustration, but still went to go change again. “It doesn’t, Li. I’m fine. We’re fine. We’re happy. He’ll have fun tonight and tomorrow the three of us will have fun. It works out just fine.” 

“But you’re in love with him!” Liam’s voice was in a loud whisper, but it was like he’d shouted it. Zayn froze, looking at Liam with wide eyes.

“I never said that!” 

“You didn’t have to! It’s obvious!” 

“It’s not obvious because it’s not true.” Oh, but it was. It so was. He was stupidly in love with Niall with no hope of getting out of that. Only he wasn’t admitting it even to himself because if he didn’t admit to it, it wasn’t true, and now, here was Liam pointing out like it wasn’t something he could hide. 

“What’s not true?” Niall asked, now in a plain blue button down and looking like he should for a date. Zayn should have let him go out in the ugly shirt of Josh’s, but that wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to sabotage Niall’s dates. 

“That you’re cool. Liam still thinks you are. Says it’s something about the guitar,” Zayn lied smoothly, definitely not looking at Liam and his face. Zayn had a guess of what face was there and it was the one he gave whenever he caught Zayn blatantly lying to Niall about his feelings.

Niall looked between Liam and Zayn, obviously puzzled by the expression on Liam’s face, before he shrugged and climbed up on Liam’s bed with Zayn. “I am cool. You know it,” he said, before resting in close to Zayn, hooking his chin over his shoulder to look at what Zayn was working on. 

“You aren’t. You’re a total dork. And you snore.” 

“Do not!” 

“I live with you. I would know!” 

Niall made a noise like he didn’t believe Zayn for a second, then pointed towards one of the sketches of Liam’s profile. “You should drawn Liam more often. He’s pretty when you draw him.” 

Zayn nodded. “I should. Better than drawing you all the time.” It wasn’t, but it was a nice change of pace from the hidden sketchbooks filled with Niall’s eyes and hair. 

“M’not pretty,” Liam protested, but he didn’t sound sure about it. 

“You’re definitely pretty,” Zayn and Niall said at the same time and Liam made a different face. 

“It’s really weird when you two do that.” 

Zayn was going to answer, but Niall’s phone started buzzing in his pocket and Zayn could feel it against his hip. “That’s her. Gotta go. Look at me. First year dating a third year. I’m awesome.” He jumped up from the bed, messing up Zayn’s hair as he went, then fist bumping Liam on the way out the door. “Don’t wait up!” 

Once the door was shut behind him, Liam turned to look at Zayn again, that stupid serious face etching lines into his forehead. “If you keep making that face you’re going to get wrinkles.” 

“I just don’t get why you do this to yourself, Zee.” 

 

“Because he likes girls. He’s never been with a guy and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. Like that.” 

“He likes you a lot. He loves you.” 

“But he’s not _in love_ with me or he wouldn’t keep dating. It’s _fine_ , Liam.” 

Liam made a pained face, something full of pity and Zayn hated it. “It doesn’t seem fine.” 

“I know it doesn’t, but it is. We work like this. It’s selfish to expect more from him when he doesn’t want more. He’s told me. He doesn’t want it to change.” Zayn knew it was a weak argument, but it was as good as it got at the moment. Liam looked like he wanted to say more, but Zayn got up and set his sketchbook aside. “Wanna go get food? I’m starved.” He wasn’t, but he’d found that if he gave Liam something else to take care of, it sometimes helped to distract him. 

There was a clear hesitation in Liam, but the desire to feed a hungry Zayn won out and he got up from his desk with a nod. “Sure, food sounds good. Then maybe a movie later? Batman?” 

“Definitely Batman. C’mon,” Zayn said, tugging at Liam’s arm, determined to keep his mind off of Niall’s date and Zayn predicament even if Zayn couldn’t do the same for himself. 

\-------

Somehow Niall managed to meet just about everyone in the first four weeks of the term, which meant not only was it impossible to go anywhere with him, but also that the doors to the greatest parties were wide open for the foursome of roommates. Well, most days it was a threesome because Liam wasn’t much for parties, but as Zayn had sunk more into himself while Niall prattled on about some girl he was meeting at the latest one, Liam had stood up and announced he was coming along. Niall had been shocked but stoked and the moment he looked away, Zayn squeezed Liam’s arm in thanks. Often Zayn wished Liam hadn’t figured out about how he felt about Niall, but having him there for moral support when he was hurting was actually pretty great. 

Despite losing Niall to the mystery girl, the party was hopping and Zayn had managed to score a few hits off a blunt being passed around and more than one big cup of something sweet and alcoholic. He wandered away from the balcony he’d been on, spotting Liam in a corner, cheeks flushed with alcohol, a girl and a guy both hitting on him at once. Liam looked befuddled, but pleased. Zayn was just wondering if there was a chance that Liam might go home with both of them when someone wandered into his space, hand against his back, breath hot against his ear. “Hey you.” 

Zayn turned, expecting Niall, but getting someone else entirely, though at the same time he couldn’t complain. Eric was gorgeous, dark curls tucked into a beanie, just Zayn’s height, with tattoos up and down his arms. He was in Niall’s singing program, a couple of years ahead of them, but Niall had started bringing him around to hang out and it wasn’t like Zayn hadn’t noticed him. “Hey back.” Zayn couldn’t help but grin, liking the way Eric was smiling, that smirk that meant something more than the standard ‘hello’. It had been a while since someone had looked at him like that and the warm feeling in his stomach wasn’t just from the booze. 

“What’re you up to?” Eric, settled in closer, his hand still on Zayn’s back. 

“Um, trying to decide which one of them Liam is going to hook up with.” Zayn nodded towards where Liam was chatting with the girl, but the guy was definitely slipping his fingers along the waistband of Liam’s boxers peeking out of his jeans. 

“Both?” 

Zayn took a sip of his drink and nodded. “I was definitely thinking both.” 

“What about you?” 

“What about me what?” Zayn asked liking the way Eric’s eyes dropped from his to his mouth, then lower, then back up again. 

“Who are you hooking up with tonight?” Eric splayed his hand more across Zayn’s back and without thinking it through Zayn bit his lip, his eyes ticking down to Eric’s mouth. 

“Depends on who’s available, I guess.” There hadn’t been another guy. Plenty of girls, but Zayn had always only had eyes for Niall really when it came to guys, but with Eric being nothing but obvious about what he wanted, the rest of the sexuality puzzle clicked into place and Zayn was sure it was definitely more than just Niall and girls. It was definitely, like Liam, a whole lot of both. That was what he’d thought, but his dick hadn’t really been interested in anything until about the moment that Eric’s hand drifted down his back to his ass. 

“Depends on who you want for you. I think just about everyone would be interested.” 

“That include you?” 

“What do you think?” Eric moved to close the last of the space between them and Zayn let his eyes fall shut in anticipation of whatever might come next. Before the inevitable kiss or better could happen though, something slammed hard into his side, an arm around his neck. Zayn’s eyes shot open to a faceful of Niall’s cheek, the blonde stumbling into whatever little space was left between Eric and Zayn. 

“Hey guuuysss,” Niall grinned, drawing the greeting out to ten times more syllables than it had to start with. 

“Niall!” Eric sounded shocked, putting space between himself and Niall, which meant Zayn too. It didn’t seem to bother Niall, only giving the Irishman more room to hang off Zayn, who stumbled slightly under his weight before finding the right way to hold his drunk friend up. 

“Bit too much did you, Nialler?” 

Niall rounded on Zayn, blocking out Zayn’s view of Eric, blue eyes narrowing at Zayn’s. “You’re stoned.” 

“Of course I am. You’re drunk.” 

“Of course I am. Where’s Liam?” 

“Just over there-” Zayn started as Eric cleared his throat. Niall whirled around at the noise, just barely not falling over because Zayn caught him around the waist and pulled him in close to hold him up. 

“Well, I guess that’s the answer then, huh?” Eric sipped at his cup, then shrugged. “Shame, that.” 

“There a problem?” Niall asked, voice raising the same way it did when anyone asked about them these days. He was always so defensive and Zayn pressed his fingers into the soft flesh of Niall’s stomach. 

“Ni. Stop. It’s fine.” 

Eric held up his hands and shook his head. “No problem. See you around, Zee?” 

Zayn felt it, that moment slip away, same as it had with Liam and instead of pulling away from Niall and fighting it, he just held on to Niall harder. “Yeah, of course.” 

Eric nodded, then waved before walking off, leaving Zayn groaning into Niall’s shoulder. “What the hell was that, Niall?” 

“What the hell was what?” Niall turned in Zayn’s arm and Zayn just sighed, looking at his friend. 

“You. You didn’t see something was going on? You didn’t see my chance there?” Zayn wasn’t sure why he was so annoyed by it. Niall’s hair was rucked up, twisted in places from where the girl had her hands in it, but he was here with Zayn now. That meant he was done. That meant there was a very strong chance that once they got back to their room they’d share a bed for the night. Normally that was the kind of thing that Zayn would wait an entire party for, but tonight, with Eric leaving, it didn’t sound as appealing as it usually did. 

“Chances where? Did I do something?” Niall looked confused, but also worried. 

“What? That whole thing. You jump in here like some angry boyfriend!” Zayn rolled his eyes and let go of Niall for the first time ever, turning his back on Niall and heading for the door. He should have stopped to grab Liam, but Liam wasn’t in his corner anymore and Zayn didn’t have the patience to find out where he’d gone. He was probably having the time of his life anyhow. 

Once through the doors, Zayn was pulling out his cigarettes again, not at all surprised to hear footsteps following after him as he lit up. “What the hell, Zayn!” Niall sounded surprisingly sober considering he’d been slurring moments before. Zayn couldn’t turn back to look at him, but Niall just stepped in front of him. “What the hell? I wasn’t doing anything. I was just being us! You said you were fine with it. That it made you happy!” 

“It does, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about how you’re not my boyfriend!” Zayn meant to shout it, but it came out terse and quiet instead. “You aren’t. And you--” The words caught in his throat and he couldn’t finish it. 

“I’m…” Niall looked crestfallen and confused. “What happened in there?” 

“It’s more like what didn’t happen! I was this close to hooking up with him and then suddenly you’re there running him off. We aren’t together, Ni. You’ve made that clear, but every time someone asks, you refuse to say no.” Zayn was too stoned and too drunk to be anything but honest, but he did manage to hold back the three little words that would change everything. 

“I just cock blocked you in there?” Niall still looked confused and Zayn wasn’t at all sure how he’d missed it. 

“Yeah. Ya did. By looking like the world’s most possessive boyfriend ever. Every time someone asks if we’re together, you ask them if they have a problem with it and never actually say, no, we aren’t.” 

Niall stopped as if he was thinking through what had gone on and frowned as it dawned on him. Zayn wanted to stay angry, but it was hard to when he looked so befuddled and stupidly adorable at the same time. It would be so much easier if he didn’t love his best friend as much as he did. “I wasn’t trying to be...that.” 

“Why can’t you say it? Why can’t you say that we aren’t together?” Zayn needed to shut up or he was was going to say the wrong thing and there’d be no coming back from it. 

“Because they always ask like there’s something wrong with it. Like being your boyfriend would be a bad thing or a thing to be offended by and they shouldn’t. Because there’s nothing wrong with it,” Niall insisted. 

Zayn blinked twice and practically burned his hand on his cigarette. “You’re...standing up for me?” 

Niall shrugged. “Well...yeah. Why wouldn’t I? I’m not, you know, bi or whatever, but no one should judge you for being. You’re my best friend and you’re great how you are. Everyone should see that.” 

Zayn focused on the cigarette in his hand, taking a long drag on it and not looking at Niall. It wasn’t really _the_ answer as much as it was an answer and not a terrible one at that. It was actually really sweet, the way Niall was trying to protect Zayn’s questionable sexuality and it wasn’t like Zayn could be mad about that. It didn’t explain all the other things, all the other moments, but it got them somewhere. “It doesn’t really help when you get in the way of guys I actually want to hook up with,” Zayn grumbled. It wasn’t said as harshly as it could have been, but Niall’s face still fell. 

“I really didn’t mean to, Zayn. I won’t next time, if you want.” 

Zayn’s heart sunk to his stomach when Niall said that. Was that really what he wanted? For things to change like that? “Nah, it’s fine, Ni. Stop. Just… head’s up for next time.” 

Niall scuffed his shoe on the ground, trainers that looked too big for his feet. “So you wanna go back in there and tell him…” 

“Nah,” Zayn said with a sigh, stubbing out his cigarette. “No point now. Lost chance and all that.” 

“Should we go find Liam?” Niall suggested and Zayn shook his head. 

“There’s a good chance he’s in the middle of a threesome. We aren’t interrupting that. We’re good friends, remember?” 

“Damn, Li,” Niall said sounding impressed. He grinned for a moment then reached for the edge of Zayn’s jacket, tugging him closer, up under Niall’s arm. “How about we go back then?” 

Zayn knew he should say no, take a step back from the blurred line in their relationship that kept him awake at night, but it was impossible to just walk away from Niall. He was too much in love with him to do anything but play along. “Back sounds good.” 

“Good,” Niall said with his smile back on his face, starting the trek back to their dorm. It wasn’t a long walk, and Niall kept his arm draped over Zayn’s shoulder and halfway back he gave in and leaned into Niall’s side. It was the same matter of giving in once they were back in the room, pulling off jackets and jeans before Zayn was sliding to the side of the bed closest to the wall, leaving Niall space to climb in after him. He gave in again when Niall’s arm went around his waist and his nose pressed against the space between Zayn’s shoulder blades. It wasn’t better, but it wasn’t bad. And he loved the blonde that was wrapped around him too much to back down. 

Niall fell asleep right away, but Zayn didn’t drift off until close to dawn when he heard Liam sneak back into his room. Only then did exhaustion win out and pull him into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if I mucked up anything related to English school systems and high education.


	5. Chapter 5

The last thing Zayn expected was for Eric to find him in one of the art studios, leaning in the doorway in a leather jacket, signature beanie firmly in place to hide the messy curls that he kept long even if he hated them. They’d talked about it when Zayn was debating cutting his off again. “So, Niall cornered me yesterday,” he said with a smile, which was enough for Zayn to set his paintbrush down and turn his stool around so he could see Eric better. There was no telling what Niall had said, but Zayn had a good guess. 

“Yeah?” 

Eric nodded, pushing off the wall to move closer. “Said he screwed up the other night and didn’t mean to get in the way. It turns out he didn’t know what I was interested in.” 

“What would that be?” Zayn reached for a towel, trying to wipe the paint off of his fingers even if it didn’t go anywhere. It was always there. 

“Still you.” Eric smirked a little, the same one from at the party that held so much more to it than just amusement. Zayn fought the flush at the anticipation, glad he still felt it sober. It would have been a shame to not feel it when Eric had his hands on Zayn’s knees, leaning over him just a little. “What about you?” 

“Still you too,” Zayn said hoping it didn’t sound too eager, but it couldn’t be avoided. The anticipation was too much. It was the first guy who’d really made a move on him before, an older guy, and with nothing but confidence, Eric was leaning in and kissing Zayn. 

For all his talk of knowing he liked guys without having kissed one before, Zayn got why it took the kiss for Liam to really figure it out. Kissing Eric was essentially the same as kissing a girl, but completely different at the same time. Usually Zayn was in control in a kiss, but not this time. Eric was setting the pace, pressing into Zayn more, licking along the seam of Zayn’s lips until Zayn opened up for him. The light scruff on Eric’s chin was something Zayn thought would be weird, but the difference in texture of skin on skin was exciting. 

Eric kissed Zayn until they both had to pull back to breathe, but he kept his hands on Zayn’s knees even as he pulled back. “Definitely should have done that at the party.” 

It was enough to make Zayn laugh, hooking his fingers in Eric’s jacket to drag him in for another kiss. “I’ll let you make it up to me,” he murmured in between kisses. 

“Oh, you’re gonna let me? Lucky me. What do I have to do?” Eric rolled his eyes, but didn’t move away from Zayn’s mouth or hands and Zayn took the chance to slip his fingers under the leather jacket to fist in Eric’s shirt. 

“Keep doing this. Then later do more?” Zayn was nervous to ask it, but he managed to sound confident about it, lord only knew how. 

Eric looked like he was considering it, then nodded. “Come by when you’re done here? I’ll text you the address to my house. It’s not far, just off campus.” 

The idea of going back to Eric’s was nerve wracking, but the other option was Zayn’s dorm and Niall would be there. Being worried about being able to impress Eric was pointless if he couldn’t follow through after seeing Niall’s face. “You ordering dinner?” 

“Of course. See you later then?” Eric kissed him again, something lingering and promising more later. 

“As soon as I’m done here.” Zayn didn’t let Eric go right away though, pulling him in for more kisses, more like the first one. Eric lingered for a little longer, but eventually moved away, leaving Zayn feeling cool in his wake. He kept his eyes on the doorway long after Eric had left, smiling to himself. It wasn’t perfect because it wasn’t someone else, but it damn sure was nice.

\------

When Zayn snuck into the room later that night, he caught Liam doing the same. “Where were you?” he asked Liam while Liam flushed hotly and struggled with the key in their door. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Liam said, obviously deflecting. 

“I was with Eric. What about you?” 

“Niall’s friend Eric? The one with the hair?” Liam was still deflecting. Massively so. “Well, it’s more the beanie since, if I remember right, you only see his hair when Niall steals his hat…” 

“That’s the one. We’re...something.” Zayn wasn’t sure what they were exactly beyond the way it felt to have Eric’s tongue and mouth fixed on the heart Zayn had tattooed on his hipbone. The tattoo looked red despite being done in just black ink, something he’d gotten on a drunken, love-for-Niall fueled night over the summer. It was weird to think of it as anything more than Niall related, but before Zayn had time to do more than enjoy the attention, Eric had undone his jeans and Zayn hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything more than Eric’s hand wrapped around his dick. 

“That good, huh?” Liam asked, eyebrow raised, and Zayn winced guessing he was making a face while reliving the memory.

“Yeah, that good,” he said, dropping his bag on the floor by Liam’s bed and crawling up on it. The door to Zayn and Niall’s half of the quad was closed and Zayn could just pick out the sound of Niall’s soft snores. Josh was gone, but that wasn’t new. He’d gotten a girlfriend two weeks in and spent more nights at her place than in his his own bed. 

“So...what happened?” Liam toed out of his trainers, sitting on his desk chair. 

“He kissed me. Said Niall talked to him after the party incident and he was still interested. Then I went over to his place for dinner and more.” Zayn wouldn’t normally kiss and tell, but Liam was one of those people that was so easy to talk to it was harder not to tell him things rather than tell him. Niall was still his best friend, but Liam was definitely a close second and there were things he knew he could talk to Liam about that he couldn’t talk to Niall about. Or wouldn’t. 

“More being…” 

Zayn fell back on the bed a little. “Lost my virginity, I think. With a guy at least. Had with a girl a while back.” 

Liam was turning pink again, which Zayn guessed had to do with where he’d been. “You two actually…” 

“No, not that, but the other stuff counts, right?” 

Liam shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know if I counted it until…” He trailed off and blushed more which had Zayn leaning up to stare at Liam. 

“What have you been up to?” 

Liam shrugged and pushed the books around on his desk like he was doing something, but Zayn could tell he wasn’t. “At the party. I met this guy. And this girl, but mostly the guy.” 

“Who?” 

“Just a guy. Not…We’re not. I mean that night. Yeah. And her, but she didn’t call me back the next day and he did. I saw him again. I don’t think I want to it to be a thing because I don’t think I like him, but he’s...really good.” Liam was flushed almost maroon by the time he finished and Zayn leaned forward to playfully punch him in the arm. 

“Go get ‘um, Payne! Good for you. Having a proper uni hook up and everything.” Zayn grinned, which seemed to settle Liam’s nerves some, making him grin back.

“It’s exciting, that’s for sure.” 

“Just be safe, use protection and all that, and let yourself have some fun.” 

“Of course I was using protection, you think I wouldn’t? Were you? You were being safe, weren’t you?” 

Zayn laughed, falling back against the bed, shaking his head. “Yes, Dad. I was being safe. Sheesh.” 

Liam looked ashen. “I was just trying to make sure.” 

“I know you were,” Zayn said getting up and going around to ruffle Liam’s hair. “It’s fine. I’m going to go bed. You should too, you busy thing you.” Liam swatted at him, but Zayn managed to get out of the way in time, heading back into his room to crash into his own bed. He strictly did not look across the room to notice the way Niall slept closer to the wall, leaving space for Zayn to crawl in beside him if he wanted.

\------

Zayn wasn’t sure how he and Eric went from ‘hooking up at his place after ordering take out’ to ‘boyfriends’, but when he met Eric’s friends at the Student Union bar after a week of confirming his sexuality and learning exactly what it was he liked, Eric introduced him as his boyfriend. Everyone seemed less surprised at the title than Zayn was so he went with it, opting not to ask when it had happened, but to move forward with knowing that it had. 

Eric’s friends were nice enough, a crowd of beautiful musicians and actors and all of them had already figured out just what they wanted to do. One was classical music, studying oboe, another was focused intensely on the rise of musical theater being turned into movies and had a theory on how Zac Efron starring High School Musical was his ticket to Oscars. Two had serious bands like Eric did, fighting for record deals, but also saving up to purchase sound equipment so they could record on their own. Zayn gave them Liam’s name since he was studying sound engineering and recording, figuring at the very least it would give Liam practice. They’d been excited at the idea of grooming some baby producer, so Zayn opted not to point out that for all Liam seemed like a pushover, he’d probably be the opposite as a producer. 

Zayn was just starting to really settle with Eric’s friends or the strong rum and cokes had kicked in when suddenly Niall was sitting with them. Zayn was sure he was seeing things, blinking at him a few times in hopes to clear an alcohol induced hallucination, but then half the table started talking to Niall and Zayn had to accept that he was real. 

“I invited him for you,” Eric whispered, mouth suddenly by Zayn’s ear, hand curling around the inside of Zayn’s thigh high enough to make him blush. “Didn’t want you to be completely left out and they know him already.” 

Zayn leaned back enough to see Eric’s face, feeling his heart swell a little from the gesture. It was an incredibly sweet thing to do, understanding that Zayn wasn’t always the best with meeting new people, too prone to being quiet if he wasn’t comfortable, and knowing that tossing Niall into the mix brought Zayn out of his shell. He took Eric’s face in his hands and pulled him in for a kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered before kissing Eric again. 

“Anytime if that’s the thanks I get,” Eric teased, stealing another kiss before getting pulled back into the conversation. He kept his hand on Zayn’s leg, keeping him close. Zayn smiled to himself, pleased at having an actual boyfriend that made his heart feel too big for his chest and his stomach swirl with butterflies rather than a best friend with no boundaries. The moment he glanced up and caught Niall’s eyes across the table though, the happy feeling flitted away and the butterflies turned into an almost painful twist. He knew that look. It looked normal, curious at most, but it wasn’t the wide smile that Zayn was used to. Niall looked like something wasn’t right, but Zayn couldn’t pinpoint what it could be or what exactly Niall was thinking. It only lasted an instant before someone was saying something to him, pulling Niall’s attention elsewhere, but Zayn could see the way his smile was forced, still tight around the edges and the way his hand gripped his pint glass a little too hard. 

Zayn felt his own emotions spiral wide, roping in feelings that he didn’t realize could come out of half a look of disappointment. Was Niall jealous? Was he not okay with Zayn having a boyfriend? Concern ebbed into Zayn’s mind at the idea that Niall might not like Eric for Zayn, which had Zayn wondering what might be wrong with Eric that Niall wouldn’t approve. Anger bubbled up when Zayn considered the fact that Niall might just be jealous because that was entirely unfair. He couldn’t keep Zayn around for cuddles and not ever follow through, not when Zayn was completely gone over him. The other emotions were washed away with sadness though, that Zayn finding someone that made him happy might ruin things between him and Niall. The idea of losing his best friend felt like someone tied an anchor around his neck and let him sink to the bottom of the ocean. 

“Hey, you okay?” Eric was leaning in, whispering softly and catching Zayn’s eyes. 

“Yeah. Just drunk.” On more than just rum, but it was as good an excuse as anything. 

“You wanna go? We don’t have to stay.” 

Zayn hadn’t even realized that was an option, that his boyfriend would be fine with leaving because Zayn wasn’t feeling up for being at the table any longer. Niall would have done the same thing, but these were Eric’s friends. He was there to spend time with them. “Can we?” 

“Of course, babe. Let’s go.” Eric kissed Zayn lightly, then made an excuse for them, something suggestive enough that no one put up a fight with them leaving. Zayn felt stupid for clinging to Eric like he did, but Eric didn’t seem to mind, probably writing it off on Zayn being drunk. That was what Zayn was writing it off as at last. It definitely had nothing to do with that look from Niall. And later, with Eric’s fingers twisting inside him just the right way to make his back arch and moans fall from his lips, Zayn forgot all about the stupid look. 

\------

Things with Eric started to go downhill the day Liam shaved his head. 

They were all in their room, Zayn on Liam’s bed sketching like always, Eric, Josh, and Niall arguing over some new cut of a track they were working on when Liam got back from a workout and headed for the showers. Everything was normal, minus his slightly distant attitude, but finals were fast approaching and if anyone was going to get stressed out over being tested on something he was surprisingly wonderful at, it was Liam Payne. 

As it was, no one noticed Liam much until he came back from the bathroom in just a pair of basketball shorts and his sticky up hair long gone and buzzed down to almost nothing. 

“Holy shit.” Zayn saw him first, dropping his pen and staring wide-eyed at his other best friend. “Where’d your hair go?” 

“Trashcan in the bathroom,” Liam answered with a deadpan voice that would have been funny if it weren’t for the fact that he sounded dead inside. Zayn caught Niall’s eyes across the room before he dropped the sketchpad he’d been working on and headed for Liam. His taller friend was pale, Zayn noticed, paler than he’d ever been before, few freckles and the birthmark on his neck standing out worse than they ever had before. 

“Liam…”

“Nothing, Zee. It’s nothing.” 

“You’re a shit liar, Liam.” 

Liam looked pained and Zayn reached for him, wrapping his arms around Liam, only just barely hearing Josh behind him talking to Eric. 

“You should leave.”

Eric turned to stare at Josh, then back at Liam. “Why? He cut his hair.” 

“This is bigger than that,” Niall said reaching for Eric’s bag to hand it to him. “You should go. We need to deal with this.” He shoved the bag into Eric’s hands then gave him a gentle push towards the door. 

“What? I’m friends with Liam too, you know.” Zayn felt Liam tense in his arms and before Niall could speak again, Zayn stepped in. 

“You should go, Eric. I’ll call you.” 

“We had plans tonight, Zayn. Remember?” 

Zayn remembered. It was strangely reminiscent of the time he’d blown off Elaine for Niall, but this was Liam and Zayn was surprised how anyone who claimed to be his friend could bring up other plans with the way Liam looked in that moment. “I know, but this is important.” 

“Then why do I have to go?” Eric demanded. 

“You just do, mate.” Niall sounded firm, but it was Josh that had his hand on Eric’s arm, guiding him out of the room, his keys in hand and pulling on his jacket. 

“This is just us. Probably even less me and more them, but I’m good for making a booze run. C’mon.” 

Eric tried to protest again, but Josh was bigger than all of them, guiding them out of the room and and down the hall before the door clicked shut. Zayn just hugged Liam tighter, cheek pressed against the bare skin of his shoulder. “What happened, Li?” 

There was a long pause and then Liam’s breath hitched over a choked sob before he started crying. “He said I wasn’t important. That I didn’t matter. He was just...using me.” 

Zayn winced and Niall looked confused, mouthing a ‘who’ over Liam’s shoulder. “He’s an idiot, Liam. You matter so much. You’re the most important person there is.” 

“You can’t even say that. You have Niall.” 

Niall looked up surprised then joined the hug. “But we have you too. You’re just as important. We love you, Liam. You’re our other best friend.” 

Liam seemed surprised and uncomfortable with the attention and pulled back, wiping at his eyes. “Really? I am?” 

Zayn looked at Niall who shrugged before looking back at Liam. “Of course you are. You have been since like two weeks in. Did you not know that?” 

Liam looked at his hands instead of them, then reached for a shirt to put on. “I guess I didn’t. I just thought, we’re roommates and you’re friendly and…”

“I’m not friendly,” Zayn interjected. “He is, but I’m not. I’m mostly unlikable.” 

“Not true, Zee, you’re great,” Liam corrected, which just made Zayn laugh. 

“You think that because you’re one of my best friends and I like you! Duh, Liam. I can’t believe you didn’t realize it.” Zayn wrapped his arms around Liam again, ignoring the protests and Niall jumped in as well. “He’s a jerk. He should know better and I should have guessed you fell for him.” 

“I didn’t fall,” Liam corrected. “I just thought we were more than we are. Were. Whatever.” Liam sighed and Niall squeezed them both tighter. 

“Josh went off to get drinks and probably snacks. We’ll get drunk and you can tell us why you cut your hair off and we’ll curse his entire bloodline and dick and all that.”

Liam didn’t seem convinced, but he was willing to go along with things. When Josh got back, they passed the bottle around, getting drunk on a Tuesday night because their best friend had gotten his heart broken just a little bit. 

Zayn didn’t text Eric until late, a half drunk apology for skipping their date. Eric responded, apologizing for reacting the way he did and saying things were fine. He got it. Things were fine. They didn’t feel fine though and Zayn found himself waiting for another text to come in saying that things were over between them. 

It never came, but for the first time since he’d started kissing Eric, Zayn crawled into the open space on Niall’s bed, wrapping his arms around the blonde like a security blanket and letting the sound of his breathing drift Zayn off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The morning after Liam’s break up, waking up with Niall starfished across his body, breath hot on Zayn’s shoulder, ankle hooked around Zayn’s calf, Zayn was sure things weren’t going to work with Eric. He wanted them to and he made the effort, but it was that sense that with Niall pressed against him and Liam asleep in Zayn’s bed, that this was what he wanted. There wasn’t a place for someone else in their little lives. Zayn’s life made more sense with Niall, not with Eric. He felt comforted with Niall, not with Eric, and Josh and Niall had been right to ask Eric to leave the night before. 

It took some maneuvering, but Zayn managed to get out from under Niall, slipping a pillow into the grabby hands half-asleep Niall made at the loss of his real life cuddle toy. He wasn’t used to being the first one awake, but everyone else had had more to drink and Zayn guessed they’d sleep for the most of the day. Liam would probably hate himself for missing his morning classes, but sometimes heartaches took precedence over everything else. Zayn didn’t bother with more than an old pair of jeans, a hoodie and a beanie before grabbing his things to hit up the coffee shop before his classes. 

Standing in line for coffee was familiar and second nature, which gave him time to think over what to do about Eric. He could probably break up with him, no harm, no foul, but it might require explaining why and Zayn had a guess admitting to not feeling like he should about Eric wasn’t even a good explanation for himself. Not to mention, leaving Eric left Zayn alone, no matter how he shook it. He wasn’t in love with Liam so that wasn’t an option and Niall wasn’t into guys. As much as it sucked to be with someone he was sure he wouldn’t ever fall in love with, Zayn was pretty sure being alone was going to suck a hell of a lot more. 

Did that make him a terrible person though? To stay with someone that he couldn’t love? Zayn was hit with the thought just as the girl behind the counter asked for his order and he was left stammering for a moment before ordering a chai latte. Not his usual, but it would work and it wasn’t him blurting out questions to a stranger of if he was a horrible human being to want to stay with his boyfriend even if he knew they didn’t have a future together. 

At the same time though, it wasn’t as if Eric had said he was in love with Zayn. For all Zayn knew it was just a passing thing for him, someone to be with to fill in the lonely gaps in life until the _right_ person came along. Or until the right person noticed that Zayn existed. Zayn stomped that thought down with a shake of his head and forced himself not to get caught up in miles of wishful thinking over the idea that Niall might wake up in love with him. That wasn’t going to happen and wishing for it was silly. 

Pushing the thoughts away didn’t solve his Eric problem though. Maybe it was too soon to be worried about too much. It had only been a couple months. He’d been with Elaine longer, and there hadn’t been declarations of love between them. Maybe it wasn’t something he even needed to be thinking about and that feeling he’d had waking up with Liam and Niall was just him basking in the glow of being surrounded by his best friends. 

 

He was trying that idea on for size when someone grabbed his arm and he almost jumped out of his skin, barely managing not to spill his latte all over himself. Zayn whipped around, staring at Eric wide-eyed and beyond confused. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eric said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just me. Didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve been calling your name since the shop.” He nodded behind them and Zayn realized he didn’t remember even getting his drink or walking out he’d been so lost in his own head. “You okay?” 

Zayn took a moment to get his wits back, but nodded before shaking his head. “Yeah, sorry. Didn’t sleep much.” 

Eric seemed like he didn’t believe Zayn for a moment, then nodded leaning in for a quick kiss. That was the thing with Eric, he noticed when Zayn wasn’t right, but he never asked like Liam or Niall might. “How’s Li?” 

_You can’t call him that_. The thought shocked Zayn, but he nodded past it, shrugging his shoulders. “Fine, I guess. Got him hammered last night and he told us everything. He got right and used by this guy, you know? Really not fair.” 

“No, not fair at all.” Eric slipped his arm around Zayn’s waist to walk with him and Zayn tried not to tense at the touch. “Wish I could have helped.”

“I don’t think anyone helped,” Zayn said, hating that he’d had to throw his boyfriend out and that his boyfriend was bringing it up again. 

“You probably did, he loves you.” There was a twinge of something darker in Eric’s voice, something almost jealous, but that couldn’t be right. 

“Not like that, we’re just friends,” Zayn reassured, not wanting Eric to get the wrong idea about himself and Liam. 

“No, I know. He’s no Niall.” 

“What?” Zayn stopped walking, staring at Eric, who made it a step ahead of Zayn before he turned back. 

“Nothing,” Eric said, shaking his head and reaching for Zayn’s hand to get him walking again. “Nothing.” Zayn wasn’t sure it was nothing, but Eric didn’t say more and Zayn didn’t have the heart to press the issue. He let Eric pull him back closer and start them walking again. “You want to come to mine later?” Eric tried, but Zayn shook his head. 

“Probably should stick around for Liam. He’ll sleep through his morning classes and be doubly miserable,” Zayn said, not feeling at all bad about blowing Eric off again. Not when what he said had ideas bouncing around in his head over why Eric would say that about Niall. Did he know how Zayn felt about Niall? Did he think Niall felt the same way? Did anyone else? 

“I’ve gotta make a stop before class,” Zayn said suddenly, turning a different way at the next corner. “Just remembered, and I should hurry so I’m not late.” 

Eric looked confused, but didn’t fight it. “Art stuff?” 

“Always,” Zayn agreed with a smile. “Sorry. See you later!” He pressed a quick kiss to Eric’s cheek then dashed off in the opposite direction, turning once to look like he was headed somewhere other than back to his dorm room. 

\-----------

“What did you say to that?” Liam was still on Zayn’s bed, but curled under his own blanket in just a pair of trackies and a hoodie, hands wrapped around the takeaway cup of tea that Zayn had brought him as a peace offering for waking up his hungover friend so he could talk about his own problems. 

“I said I wasn’t in love with you-” 

“You aren’t?” Liam looked up from under his hood, frowning a little. 

“Well...no?” 

“You don’t sound sure.” 

Zayn sighed, looking at his hands then shook his head. “I wish I was sometimes. I wish I could. I thought that the night you told me you were into guys. I thought about kissing you even, but I couldn’t. It’s…” 

“Niall.” Liam nodded before shrugging. “You’re too pretty for me anyway,” he said with a scoff, though Zayn could tell he was kidding. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Zayn pushed at Liam’s shoulder which made Liam chuckle before groaning softly and holding his head. Zayn took sympathy and rubbed the back of his neck slowly through his hood. Liam mumbled something, and Zayn frowned. “What was that?” 

Liam turned his head, looking at Zayn. “I said it’d be nice. To be able to fall in love with you.” Zayn could see the hurt in his friend’s eyes and squeezed his neck. 

“Yeah, yeah it would be.” Zayn really wished he could. It would be easier than being in love with Niall and not being in love with Eric. 

“What’d he say then? That shouldn’t have you upset.”

Zayn looked up, surprised before sighing. Liam knew him. For all the weirdness of worrying Eric might think he was in love with Liam, it was something else that had him running back to a hungover Liam, relieved that Niall had gotten up and gone to class, which meant he had his roommate to himself. “He said he knew that I wasn’t in love with you and you didn’t love me like that. That you weren’t Niall.” 

Liam went quiet and Zayn realized it was just as bad as he thought. He groaned softly, pitching forward to rest his forehead on Liam’s shoulder. Liam reached up to pet his hair gently. “So I guess he knows?” 

“I don’t know if he knows. I don’t know. It also...you don’t think he thinks that Niall loves me, do you?” 

“Zayn…” 

“He could, Liam. Liam.” Zayn looked up, hope already bubbling in his chest and leaving him a little breathless. “He could, couldn’t he?” 

“Zayn.” 

Wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing? It would. He could be happy. So happy. “Maybe, maybe I could..” 

“Zayn. Stop. You’ve got a boyfriend. And…” Liam sighed and it was enough to stop Zayn, slow the rush of his heart. “You... He loves you, Niall does. Just not sure…” Zayn knew what Liam was saying. He slumped back against his roommate’s shoulder, nodding slowly.

“Am I a terrible person if I don’t break up with Eric even though I obviously love someone else?”

There was an uneasy silence between them before Liam shook his head. “Not if you still like Eric and want to be with him, then no, probably not. Maybe a tiny bit, but he hasn’t...he hasn’t said it to you yet, has he?” 

Zayn shook his head, but more rolled his forehead across Liam’s shoulder. “No. He hasn’t. I keep thinking I’m getting too far ahead of myself.”

Liam shrugged with the shoulder that Zayn wasn’t leaning on. “I’m not the best judge of that. I think I tend to get carried away myself. That’s how I got hurt.” 

“He was wrong, you know,” Zayn said, sitting up and looking at Liam. “You matter so much. And you’re going to find someone that you matter the world to and that’s going to be so much better than any fleeting moment with this other guy.” 

Liam nodded, reaching out to wrap his arms around Zayn and pull him in for a hug. “You too. You’re gonna figure this out.” 

Zayn wasn’t as sure as he was about Liam, but he was willing to take comfort in Liam’s words and hope for the same thing, if only for a moment. 

\-----

Bliss. Sheer bliss. It was shrouding Zayn from all sides, his eyes screwed shut, forehead pillowed on his arms with his fingers clenched in his own hair as he held on for dear fucking life. Eric’s hips snapped against his again and hit that perfect spot and Zayn groaned loudly, forgetting everything but that incredible feeling of being full and used and just perfect. Blissful. Eric’s hand was on him stroking in time with his hips and Zayn felt his back arch, his body tense, everything teetering on that bliss, that edge of perfect bliss that he _craved_ , but only found every so often. So close, so close. He was saying something, not even sure what he was mumbling, but Eric was urging and, despite having his eyes closed, Zayn could feel his vision going white around the edges. Right there. Damnit, it was so close. Just one more…

“Love you so much baby,” Eric groaned with a final flick of his hips and wrist and Zayn came, but the bliss was shattered, battered away by the words. It still felt great, the release, like it always did, but that moment, that thing he’d been reaching for was snatched away as reality came back to him. He felt Eric pump a few more times before he came, slumping against Zayn’s back and Zayn buried his face in his arms. No. No. He hadn’t said it. 

Eric shifted, smoothing his fingers down Zayn’s spine to quell the shiver that was left behind when Eric moved out of him. Zayn stayed where he was, sinking slightly on his knees, as his boyfriend fell back against the bed, cleaning himself up before reaching for Zayn to pull him closer. Zayn went, curling against Eric’s side as Eric’s breathing evened out. He was notorious for falling asleep afterwards, not that Zayn cared because normally he was the same way, but tonight his mind was racing. Was he supposed to answer? Were they going to talk about this? The term ended in less than a week and then they were headed their separate ways for the holidays until New Year’s when they were headed back to campus for a party at Eric’s place. Zayn was sure he’d get out of the term without any sort of declarations of love and then he could spend the break convincing himself he was in love with Eric. By New Year’s, everything was going to be perfect and now this. 

“I do. I really do.” It was murmured as Eric turned into Zayn more, wrapping him up in his arms before falling asleep. If Zayn was supposed to answer, there wasn’t much of a chance for it, Eric already out cold beside him. Zayn rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling, wishing it had answers written on it, wishing his mind could focus on more than the endless loop of ‘you’re a terrible person’ that sounded a lot like Liam’s voice even if Liam wouldn’t say such a thing. Apparently his steadfast friend had just become his conscience. 

Zayn didn’t even realize hours had passed until he shifted a little and caught a glimpse of the clock on Eric’s nightstand and with it glaring three am at him, he made a snap decision. Eric had rolled off to his side of the bed as he usually did and Zayn was able to sneak out of his side without disturbing him. He grabbed his clothes, pulling them on as quickly and quietly as he could before grabbing his bag and sketchbook and sneaking out of the house. He’d been there enough to avoid the floorboards he knew creaked and that realization was like another punch in the gut. He’d invested so much time, so much effort, into being something he thought Eric wanted, into making all the bits and pieces of their relationship work out and he couldn’t give the one thing that would have made all the difference. He told himself it would feel worse to stay, to wake up and talk about it, but as Zayn closed the front door behind him, he wasn’t so sure.

\-------

Zayn wasn’t proud of it, but he avoided Eric after that. Thankfully he had excuses, finals and final projects of the term due, though his classes weren’t something he had to study for and he’d finished most of his projects ahead of time, the excuse worked. It made him feel bad when Liam and Niall planned their mini-Christmas celebration the night before they headed home for the holidays and he opted not to invite Eric, even though they said he could. It was just more fun to wear a paper crown from a cracker with his roommates, giggling over take out and gifts, leaning into Niall or Liam’s shoulders once he had too much to drink. 

He couldn’t avoid Eric completely, not when Eric was supposed to be giving him a ride to the train station the next morning. It was quiet in the car, Zayn leaning against the window and not sure what to say, all the while fighting a bit of a hangover. At the station, Eric parked, surprising Zayn. “You could have just dropped me off.” 

Eric shook his head, getting out of the car and going around to get Zayn’s bag. “I couldn’t. Not much of a goodbye, is it?” Zayn hated that he’d hoped for less of a goodbye because he wasn’t ready to deal with it. Still, he followed Eric out of the car and didn’t fight him too much when Eric rolled his suitcase, leaving Zayn with just his backpack. He hooked his fingers in the straps, keeping his head down as they walked towards the entrance of the station. 

“Guess it isn’t, no. You gonna go home for the holiday?” 

“Day of probably, for dinner and all,” Eric said. His parents lived in the same town and it wasn’t as far as a trip. “You’ll be back for New Year’s, right?” 

Zayn nodded and smiled a little. “Yeah. For your party.” 

That was enough to get a smile out of Eric who leaned in to bounce his elbow off Zayn’s. It lightened the air between them, leaving Zayn leaning against Eric as he looked for the train to Bradford. Once he found the right platform, Eric walked with him, hesitating at the door to the train before handing over Zayn’s suitcase. Zayn wasn’t sure what to do, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t leave without the proper goodbye that Eric wanted. 

“Here,” Eric said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a small, thin box wrapped a little sloppily. “Happy Christmas. You can open it on the train.” 

Zayn took the gift with a frown. “I didn’t… We said we weren’t going to.” They had, especially since they weren’t spending the holiday together and it wasn’t a holiday that Zayn had ever celebrated until this year. 

“I know. I don’t listen. It’s nothing huge, I just couldn’t help it,” Eric hesitated for a moment then moved closer, kissing Zayn lightly at first, then going in for a better kiss. Zayn clung to his jacket with his free hand, pressing closer to his boyfriend. When the kiss broke off, Eric slipped one arm wrapped around Zayn’s waist. “I love you. I know… I know you might not be able to yet, but I do. And I hope you can at some point.” 

Zayn felt his heart break into a thousand pieces, gripping tighter to Eric’s jacket. “I want to,” he mumbled, something barely there. “I really do.” It was an honest statement. He didn’t want to take away from what he had with Niall, but at the same time he really did want to love Eric back. It was a real thing, right there, and he knew it could be so good. 

Eric touched his cheek, kissing him again. “I know.” They made the last boarding call for Zayn’s train. “You should go,” he murmured, kissing him one more time before giving him a little push towards the doors. “See you at the New Year,” he called after Zayn who blushed and nodded, waving and staying by the doors until they closed. Then he made his way down the train car until he found an empty row, dropping into it with his suitcase next to him, backpack in his lap. He waited until the train pulled out of the station to open Eric’s gift, frowning at the contents. It was a set of charcoal pencils he’s lusted after in the art store while Eric watched. They were too nice a gift. He leaned back against the seat and fought back tears. It was going to be a long ride home. 

\--------

The break had been nice, full of his mother’s cooking and too much time spent sitting on his bed, waiting for something to come to him when it came to Eric. There had to be some sort of solution, some sort of way to convince his heart to be in love with his boyfriend. There had to be. He’d tried to keep to strictly drawing his boyfriend’s features with the new pencils, but as always his hands wound up drawing Niall, adding his eyes to Eric’s face, or his hands to Eric’s arms. It was futile. Zayn changed the day of train ticket back to school to squeeze into the studio there before anyone else was back, mask in place while he went back to his favorite medium, spray paint. He put a good dent in things before dragging himself back to the dorms, alone there until everyone got back for the New Year. 

Being alone didn’t solve his problem about Eric, but it did help build up his resolve, so that by the time Zayn’s roommates were back and they’d headed over to Eric’s New Year’s party, he was feeling better about the future of his relationship. The party was in full swing, though Eric managed to find him, kissing him hard until the crowd around them whooped enough to embarrass them, leaving Zayn blushing. He tried to stick with Eric or one of his friends, but Eric had everyone to talk to, Liam was pulled off by some girl, Josh had probably left with his girlfriend, and Niall was hard to keep in one place. As always, Zayn found himself on the outskirts of the party, sipping on his drink and finding someone to hook him up with a little bit of weed. 

He found a good spot on the stairs where he could see everyone through the railings, Liam blushing his way through a conversation, though the girl seemed more enamored by the blush, Niall in the middle of a group of people yelling and leading some sort of song. Eric was leaning against a wall, talking with his friends, looking as gorgeous as always. Zayn wondered if he should go down to him, stand with him and his friends, but he didn’t want to get in the way or distract him. Plus, he was right at that perfectly drunk point where sitting on the stairs seemed easier than doing much of anything else. 

Couples started to pair off all of a sudden, going from groups chatting, to one on one conversations. Zayn was trying to sort out why when someone was suddenly beside him, arm pressed against his and leaning in closer. “It’s almost midnight.” 

Zayn pulled his eyes away from Eric and the couples around him at the voice, knowing it better than he knew his own tattoos. “Is it?” he asked Niall, grinning at him. A tiny noise in his head was saying something about Eric, but Zayn pushed it away for Niall’s blue eyes watching Zayn and his smile that seemed to always be just for Zayn plastered on his face. 

“Is. Thought I should find you.” Niall shifted closer still, fingers brushing against the hand that Zayn was using to hold his cup. He switched hands without thinking about it, twisting his fingers with Niall’s. 

“Why?” Wasn’t the rule about kissing the person you were with at midnight? Did that mean Niall wanted to kiss him? Was Zayn in any way ready for that?

“You know what they say,” Niall said, watching Zayn’s fingers in his, rubbing his thumb over Zayn’s in slow, precise movements. 

“No. I don’t.” There was a thing about kissing. That much he remembered. That had to be what Niall was thinking and the noise about Eric was getting a little louder, but Zayn did not care. Not if Niall wanted to kiss him. 

“Whatever you do at the start of the new year is what you wind up doing the most rest of the year. I want it to be with you.” Niall’s voice had gone quiet, a soft whisper just between them and Zayn was pretty sure his own heartbeat was pounding louder than Niall was speaking. Niall could probably hear it banging against Zayn’s chest. 

“I want it to be with you too, Nialler,” he breathed, though the words felt as shaky as his breath and he let go of Niall’s hand to grab his shirt. “Niall…” 

Somewhere that had to be lightyears away, people were counting down: _ten, nine, eight…_ That hardly mattered when Niall leaned in a touch more at the grip Zayn had on him. “What?” 

“I… you need to know. I want…” _Five, four..._ Niall wasn’t understanding. He wasn’t seeing it, though Zayn was sure it was written all over his face. _Three, two…_ Zayn was running out of time, but maybe that was okay. He leaned in more, thinking maybe if he just kissed Niall, he would understand that that was how he wanted to spend the next year, not just with each other but _with_ each other. He watched as Niall’s confusion fell away, his eyes ticked down then back up, and his features softened. He wasn’t pulling away and Zayn saw it, that moment he’d been waiting years for, right there for the taking. 

“What the actual fuck, Zayn!” 

The cheering had started, but the line came out loud and clear. Zayn’s head moved so fast he’d have whiplash and there was Eric, three steps below them, and pissed as hell. Niall was already pulling back, unclenching Zayn’s fingers from his shirt and putting space between them. The cheering was stopping in places, and Zayn could feel eyes on him. 

“Seriously. What the hell? I’d like to know right now.” Eric was vibrating with anger and Zayn didn’t actually have words that would answer that question because ‘I was about to snog the hell out of my best mate so he’d realize it was all I ever wanted to do’ didn’t seem like a good answer. 

“Mate, nothing happened.” That was Niall. Niall who was getting up, hands held up as if he hadn’t been touching Zayn, taking a step towards Eric.

“Like fucking hell it was nothing! It was not nothing! It was you, about to kiss my boyfriend!” Eric was definitely yelling and everyone was looking now, anything else forgotten. 

“I wasn’t,” Niall insisted and Eric let out a noise of rage before lunging at Niall. Zayn braced himself for Niall to get hurt, to panic, and maybe to run, but Eric didn’t get far. Liam, bless Liam, had shown up in time to catch Eric’s arm to keep him from hitting Niall. 

“No need to fight, mate,” Liam was saying, trying to be calm and even, but Eric just growled at him before swinging with his other arm. It wasn’t much of a punch, but it was enough to connect with Liam’s jaw. It probably didn’t hurt that bad, but it got Zayn on his feet, hurrying down the few stairs to get between them. 

“He just said there wasn’t a need to fight, Eric!” Zayn pushed at his boyfriend’s chest, then Liam’s trying to make space between them. 

“I don’t want to bloody fight him, I want to fight that damned Irish homewrecker!” Eric whirled around until he found Niall who’d pressed himself against the wall of the stairwell. “You couldn’t just let me have him! You had to keep him to yourself too! You don’t even know how good you have it, but he's still always yours, huh?”

Zayn jumped up another step, this time putting himself between Eric and Niall. He’d never been this protective in his life and now here he was, fending off anyone who was touching his friends. “He didn’t do anything! He didn’t. It was me.” Zayn felt Niall tense behind him, but Zayn stayed in the way.

“It was you!” Eric’s rage spat the phrase out, but then it seemed to boil over. “Of fucking course it was, get out. Get out right now.” 

Zayn reached for Eric, but Eric jerked away from his touch. “I said leave. Now. Take them with you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Zayn tried, but Eric just turned away. 

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Zayn was determined to try again, but Liam had his arm, holding his chin with one hand and dragging Zayn out of the house with the other, Niall trailing behind them. 

Later, when they were back in the safety of their room and someone had gotten ice for Liam’s face, Zayn cried, his head in Niall’s lap, face buried in the denim of his jeans. Both he and Liam were full of soothing words, gentle touches, and promises that everything would ‘okay’ and Zayn realized something. He’d almost kissed Niall, with no real lead in, no permission. He’d almost kissed his best friend who had no interest in guys and, if he’d done it, it could have ruined everything. It could have been worse than it was right now because, while losing a boyfriend stung, Zayn knew losing his best friend would be worse. He made a decision as his sobs died down and he was just sniffling. He could do it. He couldn’t just _try_ with Niall. No, he’d make a concentrated effort to get over it. He’d move on. He had to.


	7. Chapter 7

Zayn let the girl tug him through a doorway, not caring that the room was more of a utility closet than an actual room. He turned once he was in it, blocking her in as she locked the door with a hand on either side of her head. When she moved to face him, she grinned in approval of the positioning. She tugged on his shirt to pull him in for the kiss, but he was the one that deepened it immediately. He’d forgotten her name an hour ago, almost immediately after she’d said it, but she didn’t seem bothered by anything more than the flies on his jeans. She was tiny, barely coming up to his shoulder, with pink streaks in her hair. She was in an art program like his, just a different one, ceramics or something, the kind of girl with ribbons twisted in with the pink streaks and a stack of bracelets on her wrists. She’d liked his tattoos and the paint stuck under his nails, then later she’d told him she liked his ass and his hands and wanted them on her. 

There hadn’t been anyone serious since the extremely public break up with Eric. Zayn’s now ex-boyfriend had been giving him the cold shoulder, along with most of his friends, and even Niall went through a little bit of a slump where there weren’t parties to go to or people to hang out with. It hadn’t lasted long though, two weeks at the most, and then they were at it again, somewhere to go almost every weekend. Zayn went with him almost always, despite not being one for the party scene. Getting drunk or stoned helped with the fact that he still felt shitty after what happened at New Year’s and pulling random girls helped distract him from the part where he’d almost kissed Niall. Or how he wanted to go back to that moment without Eric showing up and ruining it. 

He’d stuck to girls, which was odd considering how much he’d liked being with Eric, but it was nearly impossible to compare a girl to his ex or Niall which meant hooking up with them was almost always devoid of the feelings he didn’t want to think about. The nameless girl who’d drug him into the utility closet was letting him kiss down her neck, arching her head back while nimble fingers undid his jeans and snuck their way into his pants. By the time she had her fingers on him, Zayn had forgotten to care that he didn’t know her name. He pushed her shirt up, pleased to find just a tiny bit of lace between his fingers and her pert little breasts. He was already starting to tug at her nipples when she stroked him the first time. It didn’t take long before he was fully in the game and then it was her, not him, reaching into his back pocket for the condom he’d brought with him. She pressed it into his hand and Zayn pulled back, opening the package as he watched her take her shirt off, dropping it on the floor then reaching under her skirt to shimmy out of her underwear, letting them slide down her legs until she could step out of them. 

If anyone had asked, he wouldn’t have thought this was where midway through second term would have found him, having anonymous sex against the door of a utility closet, but Zayn supposed he didn’t really have anyone to blame for it but himself. Sex was surprisingly easy when he didn’t think about it, just the basics, repeated again and again, touching things he wanted to touch, feeling things he wanted to feel, chasing that bliss. He rarely found it, but it didn’t stop him from trying. 

When it was over, she grinned, leaning against the door looking sated for a long moment before fixing her bra then pulling her shirt back on. “That was better than I thought it would be.” 

“Oh?” Zayn, cleaning himself up before he fixed his flies, and pulled his shirt back down from where it had been pushed up by her needy hands. 

“Yeah, you pretty ones aren’t usually willing to put in the work,” she told him conversationally as if he hadn’t just fucked her against a door. 

“Oh.” Not what he was expecting, but he guessed it was a compliment. “Thanks.” 

She grinned, patting his cheek before fixing her skirt. “I’ll have to keep you in mind.” Zayn hoped not, but at the same time, maybe it wouldn’t be bad. Repeating a quick shag wasn’t falling in love. “See you around,” she added before ducking out of the closet and leaving him alone. He took longer than usual righting himself, making sure everything was back where it belonged before he left the closet and wandered down the dorm hallway towards where he’d seen Liam and Niall last, snagging a cup of something strong and disgusting on his way. 

Liam was still there, perched on the arm of a couch, holding a drink that looked a lot like the one he’d had an hour ago, but that was Liam’s gig now. He came out with Niall and Zayn, but since his heartbreak had been the result of a drunken hook up, he’d stopped doing more than nursing one drink throughout the night so no one forced more on him. It didn’t bother Zayn, who liked that Liam was there to take care of him and Niall when they had too much, guiding them back into their room, always closing the door to let them sort themselves out and not ask too many questions. Liam didn’t judge if Zayn let a drunk Niall climb into his bed, but Liam wasn’t in on Zayn’s plan to get over Niall. 

Zayn dropped onto the couch next to the arm Liam was sitting on, resting his cheek against Liam’s thigh, not at all surprised when Liam brushed his fingers against the back of Zayn’s neck. It had taken Liam a while to get used to Zayn and Niall’s brand of friendship that seemed to have no boundaries, but now he gave the touches without hesitation. There was something wonderful about Liam’s strong, sure fingers, and Zayn had flashes of fantasies of his roommate before taking another long pull on his drink. He didn’t need to think like that. It wasn’t going to happen any more than it was going to happen with Niall. 

“How was that?” Liam asked about the girl without saying it. It meant Liam had been watching the foreplay, but Zayn didn’t mind. It was nice knowing someone was keeping an eye on him. 

“Good. Said I was good. Apparently us pretty ones are usually lousy.” 

Liam hummed then nodded in assent. “I can see that.” 

“No, you can’t.” Zayn pushed at Liam’s knee, grinning up at him. 

“I can though; why bother if you’re pretty? People still want to sleep with you.” 

Zayn shrugged then got up. “I need a smoke. Wanna come?” He watched Liam look around for Niall, then pull out his phone to text the blonde. Zayn didn’t need more than that as confirmation and led Liam out of the room they, making for the back stairs of the building. Liam was still texting as Zayn lit up, keeping his pack and lighter out for Liam if he wanted one. 

“Nialler said he’ll meet us in five,” Liam said once he tucked his phone back in his pocket and took the offered cigarette. It wasn’t something he indulged in much, but he and Zayn had had more than one quiet moment since the fall, just the two of them hiding from everyone. 

“He’s the only person in the world that would answer a text mid-hook up,” Zayn commented around his cigarette, holding out the lighter to light Liam’s. 

“Well yeah, but at least it means we know where he is.” That was what Liam cared about and it made Zayn smile to think about. With both cigarettes lit, they both leaned back against the side of the building lost in their own thoughts. Silence stretched between them and with anyone else it might have been uncomfortable, but it never was with Liam. While Niall always brought Zayn out of his shell, Liam had learned how fit his shyer side with Zayn’s, giving them both comfort in the quiet moments, feeling less alone, but not forced to do more than just be. 

They stayed like that until the stairwell door banged open to reveal Niall, shirt on inside out, giant grin on his face. Zayn hated the mutual feeling of being thrilled to see him and painful jealousy towards whoever got Niall out of his shirt. “Hey, hey,” Niall greeted, and Zayn forced the jealous thoughts away.

“How’d it go?” Liam asked, stubbing out his cigarette like he’d been caught smoking by a parent and Zayn suppressed a laugh at that. Everyone knew he indulged and no one was judging, but Liam still acted like he wasn’t supposed to every time.

“Excellent. Of course. Do you doubt me?” Niall always talked a big game, but Zayn knew it was only half bullshit. His friend did well charming everyone and so far no one had complained about being with him being anything less than enjoyable. No one seemed to mind that there was plenty of him to go around either, though Zayn had a guess that he wouldn’t hesitate to settle down some if he came across the right person. Zayn didn’t want to think about that. Him hooking up with strangers was one thing. Zayn never really had to see them or think about them much and he was always free to do the same while Niall was at it, but if Niall had someone around, he’d have to see her and knowing what they were up to would be like some sort of constant reminder of the thing he wanted, but he couldn’t have. 

“No one ever doubts your skills with wooing birds,” Zayn said with a roll of his eyes. “Just wonder why the hell they let you start.” He grinned at Niall, who laughed then made an attempt to jump on Zayn pushing him back against the wall. 

“Bite your tongue, you know exactly why.” Niall pressed in closer, chest and hips flush with Zayn’s and Zayn heard Liam gasp, mostly out of that unending well of concern Liam had for Zayn’s well being and sanity. Zayn should probably have had the same concern himself, but he didn’t., not with Niall as close as he was, smelling like beer and sex. 

“You gonna remind me?” Zayn asked, but he wasn’t sure it was even him speaking. Maybe the alcohol or something else, but it wasn’t him. He wasn’t that smooth. He’d learned to project well, but inside he was wondering how long he had before Niall noticed that Zayn was enjoying this far more than he should. 

Niall raised an eyebrow, his fingers finding Zayn’s hip and digging into it a little, a tease in his eyes that Zayn could get drunk on faster than cheap liquor. “Might have to. You loved me first.” 

Zayn laughed because he didn’t know what else to do and the other option was kissing Niall which was taking the little game too far. He let Niall stay there a moment longer, watching those blue eyes before pushing Niall away so he stumbled back. “You wish I did.” What a terrible lie. He’d loved Niall before he even knew what love was. 

His friend just let out a short laugh, moving in to loop his arm around Zayn and drag him away from the party. Zayn didn’t have to worry about Liam, feeling him fall into step with them. “Of course you do. I know your secrets, Zee.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Zayn waved the whole thing off with his best disinterested tone, but he didn’t miss the way Liam pressed his hand against Zayn’s back, reminding him that Liam knew better. 

The thing was, lying about how he felt about Niall was quickly becoming second nature. It was easier than breathing and Zayn didn’t want to think about it. Then he’d be too damn aware of how terrible of a thing that would be. 

\-------

“Mum is completely on board with us moving out of campus housing next year,” Niall said as he let himself back into Liam and Josh’s half of the suite, getting everyone to look up at him. He’d been Skyping with his parents in the other room and they’d shut the door to keep the noise of Niall talking to his family contained, but once Niall spoke, whatever anyone was working on was abandoned. 

“Yeah?” Zayn asked, sitting up more from where he’d been sprawled on Liam’s bed, doodling out ideas for his next painting. They’d come up with the plan to move out of housing when Josh informed them he was moving in with his girlfriend. That was fine for him, but it meant as three they were harder to house together and they’d have better luck trying to find a flat with three rooms. 

“One little wrinkle,” Niall continued, dropping on the bed with Zayn, looking over at Liam who was frowning, setting down his pencil and pushing the giant headphones he’d been wearing over one ear all the way off so they hung around his neck. 

“What’s that?” 

“Da got me a job back home for the summer, which sucks, but it’s good proper pay which means that way I can afford most of my own rent if I save properly.” 

Zayn turned halfway to see Niall better, frowning. “We were gonna spend the summer here though. A week in Bradford and one in Wolverhampton, but the idea was to get a place for the summer too.” 

Niall shrugged. “Hence the wrinkle.” 

Zayn sighed and looked at Liam who was already digging around for the notebook he’d made all the notes around their flat. Liam flipped through the pages. “I don’t know if we can afford it without Niall. Well, not if we want to take classes,” Liam said with his own frown. 

“Both our parents were only on board if we took classes,” Zayn said with a sigh. His mother had been very, very clear on that. He was staying to stay in school, not dick around with his friends.

The three of them looked at each other and Zayn shrugged. “So we’re going home this summer.” Niall sighed and draped himself across Zayn’s back with a sigh that was heavy enough to ruffle Zayn’s hair. 

“Guess we are,” Niall mumbled into Zayn’s shoulder. “Make some money, throw a big a party when we get back? Joint birthday?” he asked Liam. 

Liam looked anxious about a party and opened his mouth to say something, but Zayn held up a finger. “I won’t let him trash the place.” 

That got Liam to soften a little and he nodded. “I can always work for Dad,” he said with a shrug. “He loves when I work at the garage.” 

Zayn nodded. “I can find something at home.” He rolled a little to see Niall’s face. “I’ll miss you. You too, Liam.” Liam smiled softly and Niall grinned. 

“We’ll still talk every day,” Liam pointed out and Zayn knew it wasn’t just lip service. He couldn’t imagine going a day without hearing from one of them. “And you could still come to Wolverhampton. Both of you, though the train ride’s a bit easier for Zayn.” 

“Same for Bradford.” Zayn would love to have his family meet his friends and hopefully love them as much as Zayn did. 

“And Mullingar, but like you said, I get that it’s a bit far.” Niall smiled then rolled off Zayn. “M’starving. Let’s get some food, yeah?” Zayn hesitated and Niall must have seen it because he leaned back over the bed, watching Zayn. “It’s gonna be okay, you know that, right?”

Zayn sighed, shaking his head. “We were supposed to spend the summer together.” The time apart was supposed to be done, and Zayn felt old worries that Niall wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore, wouldn’t be _his_ anymore bubble up. It went against his current plan to get over him, wanting to keep him, but Zayn never said his feelings made sense. 

“It’s just a few months. We’ll be right back here, promise.” Niall smiled at Zayn, something softer, sweeter and just for Zayn. If Niall was a different person he’d know it was just the look to get him what he wanted, but Niall wasn’t like that and Zayn took comfort in the honesty behind the look. 

Zayn sighed, nodding and getting a kissed smacked against his cheek for the effort. “We’ve done longer,” he admitted, getting a brighter smile out of Niall. 

“It’ll be easy. You won’t even have time to miss me.” 

Zayn rolled his eyes because that was what he did now, pushing Niall off of him with a hand on his face. He’d miss Niall the first moment, but they weren’t doing that. They were holding back on _saying_ what they were feeling like they used to. They still played at it, still invaded one another’s space, but they kept the words out of it and Zayn was holding on to it to get over him. “Who said I would miss you anyway. You eat too much. With you gone, I might be able to finish a whole meal.” 

Niall laughed and fell back, then bounced off Zayn to grab Liam up and out of his chair. “Li’ll come with me to get chips,” Niall said. Zayn tossed his pen into his notebook and got up, shaking his head. 

“I never said I wouldn’t go with you,” he said, lunging at Niall to save Liam from him. “But you’re always hungry.” 

Niall grinned and shrugged. “You love it.” 

Liam caught Zayn’s eyes over the top of Niall’s head, but didn’t say anything. “Whatever,” Zayn said instead, getting his hands in Niall’s hair and messing it up before they left. Niall swatted at him, ducking out of the way, but led them out of their room and towards his favorite chip shop. 

\--------

Despite the massive lack of privacy, Zayn decided home was actually kind of nice. His mother’s food was still incredible and his friends from home were always up for dropping by the pub in town to swap stories over a couple of pints. And for once he had stories, even if most of them were about Niall, they still counted. He’d always enjoyed spending time with his schoolmates, but he felt more like he fit in with them now. It was a nice change and while it didn’t live up to his friends at uni, it made the summer without them seem a little less bleak. 

A week after he got home, he went into his local tattoo shop to get inked again, surprised to see the sign in the window. “You’re hiring?” he asked his artist, Greg, a guy with a full sleeve on either arm and a snap back flipped backwards on his head. “For what?” 

“We need a counter guy,” he said nodding towards the counter at the front of the shop that had one of the others artists loitering behind it. “Mostly just checking IDs and filing paperwork and shooing off drunk morons, but yeah.” Zayn eyed the counter seriously wondering if that was a good idea or not and Greg chuckled. “Why, you interested?” 

Zayn looked up and nodded. He could use the money and on the list of places he might enjoy working, the tattoo parlor was pretty high up there. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He smiled, trying to look charming. “I’m home for the whole summer. Go back to school in the fall, but…” 

Greg considered that and nodded. “You can handle working nights and weekends?” 

“What else am I going to do?”

He got inked up by Greg that afternoon, adding another bit to the sleeve that was slowly creeping up his forearm, then spent the rest of the evening learning where everything was behind the counter and processing a few of the people that came in for tattoos as a sort of training. 

The next night he properly started the job, sitting behind the counter, waiting on customers. His mother didn’t like it, worried it would inspire him to get even more tattoos, but she did like that he was being responsible. The pay was decent enough to justify it in Zayn’s head and it was completely acceptable for him to spend any time not handling customers working on his own sketches. Greg looked over his shoulder a lot, picking out designs he liked and borrowing them here and there, always giving Zayn credit. There were a few hanging up in the shop, something Zayn was proud of.

He tossed around the idea of learning the craft itself, sitting in on some of the bigger pieces that Greg and the other artists in the shop worked on, listening to them explain the color balances and techniques as well as what tools gave which effect. It was like painting with different brushes really and Zayn soaked the information up like a sponge. 

In July, Liam came to visit for a week like they’d planned. It had only been two months, but somehow Liam looked like a completely different person. His hair was growing in again and apparently working his father’s garage had filled out his shoulders and arms and Zayn just stared at him on the train platform, not sure the fit bloke was his friend until Liam had him crushed in a hug, grinning that goofy squinched-eye smile that could only belong to him. 

“What happened to you, Li?” he asked once Liam let him go, staring at him, leaning in to squeeze his arm. “What is this?” 

Liam blushed, which looked a little ridiculous on such a tough looking guy and shrugged. “Been at the gym. Plus, there’s a lot more manual labor at work rather than at school.” 

“Yeah, apparently. Sheesh. Can you bench press me yet?” Zayn asked, grabbing Liam’s bag and starting out of the station. 

“Maybe,” Liam suggested, eyeing Zayn. “Should I try?” 

Zayn rolled his eyes and shoved at Liam. Flirty, confident Liam was too much to handle. “No. You should not try.” He cut his eyes over at Liam who was trying so hard to look cool that Zayn burst out laughing.

“Aww.” Liam’s face fell and Zayn bumped his shoulder into Liam’s. 

“You know I would if I could,” he murmured, getting an understanding hum out of Liam before Liam draped his arm over Zayn’s shoulders. 

“How’s that going by the way?” 

Zayn considered the question for a moment then shrugged. “Same. He’s still in Ireland and still not into guys?” He kicked at the sidewalk, frowning a little. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I just miss him. I missed you.” Liam squeezed his shoulder tighter and nodded. 

“Missed you, too. But I’m here now.” 

Zayn nodded, feeling better already with being close enough to touch Liam. All the phone calls and texts didn’t make up for his friend being so far away. Zayn had always thought that Liam was one of his best friends, almost as close as Niall, but with the shared secret of how Zayn felt about Niall between them, it had deepened their bond over time. While Niall’s outgoing nature brought out Zayn’s brighter side, forcing him out of his comfort zone, Liam had always appealed to the quieter side of Zayn. Liam got comfortable silences, and questions that didn’t need long winding answers, or vocal answers at all. Liam got that sometimes Zayn wanted to just be and he’d always been willing to do just that. It was weird to have two best friends that he couldn’t rate one over the other, but that was where Zayn had found himself, nestled between two of the greatest friends anyone could ask for. 

“Mum said she’d make dinner, but I’ve still got to work tonight. My pals are headed down to the pub though. You can go there and I’ll meet you once I’m done with work if you don’t want to loiter around my house. My sisters would probably love that, but I’m not sure it’s nice to submit you to them for a few hours on your own just yet” 

Liam clearly hesitated in his steps, frowning slightly. “I...Could I just come with you?” Zayn paused, looking up at Liam then shrugging. 

“You sure? Pub’ll be more fun.” 

“Well, maybe not,” Liam said softly and it dawned on Zayn why that was. Liam was social as anyone at school, but he had Niall and Zayn with him, never really completely surrounded by strangers. Sending him to the pub alone would probably have him on edge if he didn’t know anyone. 

“Good point. Shop’ll be better. You can pick out terrible ideas for tattoos. We’ve got flash sheets with half-naked mermaids. I think you need one of those for sure.” 

Liam laughed and pushed at Zayn, making him stumble a little, but he just jumped back at Liam, wrestling with him off and on through the walk back to Zayn’s house. Once there, despite his t-shirt that didn’t seem to fit as well anymore, Liam was still the same guy and possibly the most gracious and polite guest that ever lived. Five minutes after being in the house, Zayn’s sisters loved him and Liam was helping with dinner and making Zayn look like the worst son ever. He was actually relieved to drag Liam out of the house and away from family before they got out baby pictures or old macaroni-based art projects. 

They set up at the shop, Liam alternating between flipping through the flash sheets or artist portfolios and leaning on the counter to watch Zayn work. Zayn gave up on his sketchbook and turned his attention to Liam’s arm, sketching out the mermaid he’d described in biro. “I had an idea for something actually,” he said softly as Zayn added some extra shading around her chest. 

“Something like a tattoo?” 

Liam nodded then snagged Zayn’s pen and grabbing a spare sheet of paper. “Something like this.” He drew out a few chevrons, pointing in the same direction, then turned it so Zayn could see it.

“Where ya thinkin’?” Zayn asked, looking at the drawing and reaching for a pen redraw the design and add to it on tracing paper.

“Here,” Liam held up his mermaid-less arm and pointed to the spot on his forearm. 

Zayn held up the original drawing then grinned. “I say go bigger.” The lines that Liam had drawn would barely cover his wrist, but bigger would be something else entirely.

“Bigger?” 

Zayn nodded, but he was already drawing, sketching out the lines and a size that would cover most of his forearm. “What’s it mean?” he asked while he drew, glancing up at Liam when he didn’t speak right away.

“They mean protector. One for each member of my family. Mom, dad, two sisters.” Liam tapped the chevrons as he walked through them, and Zayn smiled softly. 

“My first was a family tattoo too,” Zayn explained, then went back to drawing, making the lines wider, surer. Once he was done he held it up, leaning it against Liam’s forearm. 

Liam looked at the drawing then nodded, grinning more. “Funny thing, it’ll be for my family and my mum is going to hate it.” 

Zayn laughed. “That’s half the fun, right? Upsetting mums?” Liam blanched a little and Zayn just laughed more. “Once she gets used to it, she’ll appreciate the sentiment. My mom did at least.” 

Greg wandered out with a girl who’d finished up getting a tattoo done in a place where her bra would normally be which meant she wasn’t wearing much more than a too-loose tank top. She definitely made an attempt to look purposefully at both Liam and Zayn as Zayn took her payment and walked through the aftercare instructions, all the while leaning on the counter so both guys got a nice view of more than just her new tattoo. 

“How goes...that?” Liam asked once she left, eyes following after her with an amazed little look on his face. Liam always seemed shocked when girls and guys obviously flirted with him, like he didn’t expect it. Zayn shook his head at the question, but it was Greg who laughed. 

“He’s always here. There’s no time for skirt chasing. And when they come here, he’s beyond polite.” Greg nodded towards the drawing. “That for you?” he asked Liam. 

Liam was watching Zayn, questions in his eyes, but he didn’t ask, just smiling at Greg. “Yeah, it is.”

Greg looked it over, then nodded. “Well, come on then. Let’s get you inked up.” 

Liam’s eyes went wide, but Zayn grinned, patting his arm. “You’ve got this, Li.” He handed over the drawing to Greg and propped his chin in his hand as Liam followed after him. An hour later Liam was done, a little pale, but grinning with his arm wrapped up, and Zayn couldn’t help but love his best friend more. “How’d he do?” 

Greg grinned, filling out the forms for Liam to check out, then handing them to Zayn. “He did good. Really good. He’s a natural. Might as well start planning on designing more for him.” 

Liam blushed, but Zayn just laughed. Zayn already had some more ideas, but he’d not spring them on his friend just yet. “Drinks maybe?” he offered Liam and Liam nodded. 

“Definitely drinks. Thanks again, mate,” he told Greg, sliding his money to Zayn who sorted it out and closed the drawer. 

“Any time. Now get out of here. Have fun with your friend,” Greg said waving Zayn and Liam out of the shop. Later at the pub, Liam fit in just fine, grinning and showing off his new ink, blending in perfectly. Zayn was caught up in how is new friend fit in so well with his old ones, making all the pieces of his life click into places properly.


	8. Chapter 8

Zayn left the tiny balcony of their flat after stubbing out his cigarette, moving into the living room and pulling the door shut behind him. There, couples were grinding together to music that was probably Liam’s since neither Zayn or Niall had anything that dirty on their iPods. He weaved his way through them, not at all surprised to see Liam in the middle, dancing with a cute brunette girl. Liam was funny like that. Horrible dancer sober, but get enough drinks in him to pink up his cheeks and he could move better than anyone. The girl sure as hell looked like she was enjoying it. 

The flat was full of people, couples dancing, people piled on the couch and spilling out of the kitchen. They’d been skeptical when they looked at the three-bedroom place originally, drafty even in the summer, but even if the balcony door didn’t shut perfectly, it was great to have an outdoor space at all. And the hand-me down furniture, a couch left behind by the previous renters that was more comfortable than fashionable and weighed three tons, tables loaned from Liam’s sisters or Zayn’s mum, wasn’t anything that couldn’t stand a little more wear and tear. Liam had tried, cleaning the flat from top to bottom and making a list of how to keep it clean afterward that he’d hung on the fridge for them, but it wasn’t until there were distinct piles of their things laying about that it started look like somewhere that could be lived in rather than some place that might not be up to code. While the floors looked much better and the bathroom was useable, art supplies, guitar picks, and stacks of textbooks and CDs was what really made it homey. 

And if anything got destroyed mid-party, Zayn was pretty sure no one would care. 

He headed for the kitchen, finding Niall there, alternating between eating and drinking, yelling at someone with his mouth full. Zayn grabbed a beer out of the fridge but didn’t get far before Niall was pulling him into his conversation with a hand wrapped tightly around Zayn’s wrist. “So I told Zayn he couldn’t,” Niall was saying and Zayn shook his head, pinching Niall’s side. 

“Don’t tell people that story!” he interjected, but Niall just laughed and tugged Zayn closer.

“People love that story! It makes you seem real.” 

“I am real, you moron.” A couple others laughed and Niall took a step back. 

“Look at you. Look at your cheekbones. You aren’t real! Not at all. Am I right?” he asked the room and got at least three people to agree with him. “See? Told you. Sometimes I think I imagined you up and you existed.” 

“Your imaginary friend come to life?” Zayn asked, sipping on his beer to keep from blushing. He knew Niall had been drinking, but to think his best friend sometimes thought he dreamed Zayn up was a lot to take, no matter how much nonchalance Zayn feigned. 

“Mm. Better than an imaginary friend, but yeah. Same thing.” Niall pulled Zayn closer, wrapping his arm around Zayn’s waist and tapped his beer against his lower lip. “So if I can’t tell them the story about the-” 

“Don’t say it,” Zayn cut Niall off. 

“Fine, fine, what about that girl last term…” 

“No!” Zayn pressed his hand over Niall’s mouth and shook his head. “No. No more of you. Stop telling stories about me and tell them about Liam. Or you.” Niall just licked his palm until Zayn moved his hand away, wiping it on Niall’s shirt. 

“No one believes the stories about Liam and everyone knows my stories,” Niall explained. 

“Then let someone else talk!” Zayn tried to give Niall a stern look, but apparently missed the mark because Niall just laughed at him, pulling his arm tighter around Zayn’s waist so Zayn stumbled more into his side. 

“Fine, fine, someone else talk,” Niall said waving for someone in the little group to start up a conversation. Zayn settled in against Niall, enjoying the closeness that didn’t seem as loaded as it had in the past. It was comfortable again, like the first few summers they’d known each other. 

The summer apart had been hard, but at the same time Zayn had found a way to settle into his feelings, not as overwhelmed at them as before. Now that they were back at school and in the new flat, things just made sense. Someone else started talking, telling a story, and Zayn let himself relax more, feeling at ease with his friend and in their new home. Even in the midst of a party or just alone with his flatmates, he knew there was an option to escape behind his closed door, something he didn’t have in their suite the previous year. He hadn’t needed to yet, but part of that was due to knowing the option was there. It helped him keep his feelings in check, safely guarded because there was finally somewhere to go beyond his art to let them out. The party conversations wound around him and Zayn sunk more against Niall, finally not worried about what it meant or what it could mean. 

\------

The first time Zayn saw her she was in his kitchen wearing not much more than a tiny pair of underwear and one Liam’s shirts. She was leaning against the counter, making tea, humming to herself. He looked around confused, as if he’d somehow woken up in the wrong place. Usually, he was the last one to wake up, but it would seem there was still someone else in the flat and he had no idea who she was. 

“Um, hello?” 

She turned, grinning a little and surprisingly not the type to blush at being caught in a kitchen that wasn’t hers in her underwear. “‘Ello. Zayn, right?” 

He nodded slowly, still not sure who she was but she looked pleased that she’d gotten it right. “Becca,” she said. “Tea?” 

Becca. Zayn didn’t remember a Becca, but apparently she knew where the tea was and where the mugs were. They hadn’t even been back a month and somehow Liam had not only found a girl, but she knew where to find tea. Or didn’t feel bad about opening every cabinet door until she found it. “More of a coffee person,” he said moving around her to get a mug and start up the coffee maker. She nodded and went back to fixing two cups of tea, which meant he definitely was not last one up this morning. 

“So...Liam?” Zayn asked, not sure what he was asking, but feeling like he needed to say something rather than stand there in awkward silence with this stranger who was sleeping with his best friend. Really, it was odd that Liam hadn’t mentioned it, but Zayn tried not to read too much into it. He hadn’t really mentioned seeing the guy, Zayn had just caught him in it, and everyone else he’d pulled since, Zayn or Niall had seen him with just before it happened. 

“Mmhmm,” she said smiling at Zayn again. “That okay?” 

That was an interesting question and it sounded a little defensive, but Zayn also liked that she realized she’d have to go through him and Niall before things would be considered ‘okay’. “Yeah, I mean, not here to tell him what to do, just surprised.”

“He didn’t mention me?” she asked, fishing teabags out of mugs and adding milk to both. 

“No. But he doesn’t always. He likes sugar in his,” he added because she didn’t seem like she was going to add it. Becca made a face, like that was a poor choice, but she added the sugar anyway. Zayn opted not to point out that it was barely half the amount of sugar Liam normally put in his tea. 

“Oh well. Eventually probably. I’d think at least.” 

“Yeah eventually,” Zayn hummed, tapping his feet against the linoleum where it was starting to peel up in the corner. 

“Eventually what...Zayn?” Liam wandered in, looking shocked and then embarrassed. He was barely dressed, nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that hung off his hips and his skin was littered with marks from whatever they’d been up to the night before. Zayn raised an eyebrow towards Becca and watched Liam’s cheeks flush a little as Becca handed him his mug then hooked her free hand around his waist. 

“Eventually tell him I exist. I didn’t know you were keeping secrets,” she teased, poking at his side enough to get him to smile at her. 

“I wasn’t keeping secrets, just wasn’t sure…” 

Zayn got that and nodded. Liam had been sure before and the guy hadn’t. He got that Liam was trying hard not to get ahead of himself again, but the way she hung off of him, and how pleased he looked by it, Zayn had a guess it wasn’t a thing he could hold off on forever. 

“It’s all good,” Zayn said as his coffee finished and he poured himself some, pushing up to sit on the counter. “We’ve met now.” 

“He was just getting around to asking me my intentions,” Becca added and Zayn couldn’t help but smile. She was funny. That was good. 

“What are your intentions?” Liam asked, teasingly curious. 

“Hmm.” Becca sipped at her mug then grinned around it. “Finish this then take you back to bed?”

Liam blushed again, but he looked pleased about that and Zayn rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to know about that. So I’ll be getting lost right about now. Just don’t do it in the kitchen. Or my room.” 

“We wouldn’t dare in the kitchen,” Liam said looking appalled, but Becca tugged at the waistband of his shorts. 

“Well, we might…” 

“Becca!” Liam looked shocked and yet oddly interested and maybe just a little tiny bit mischievous. It was a different look for him, but Zayn actually kind of liked the way it fit his face. He looked happy, if Zayn was willing to get a little ahead of what appeared to be a uni hook up, and Zayn hoped that didn’t mean it was going to go down in flames. Happy Liam was a great thing, but sad Liam was possibly the worst thing that could happen in the entire world. That was getting ahead of himself though, and Zayn opted to latch on to the good feelings instead of the bad.

He shook his head at them and grabbed his bag, headed for the door. “Again, not in my room! And clean up after yourselves.” He could hear them giggling behind him and rolled his eyes before letting himself out of the flat. 

Second year for Zayn meant fewer general studies classes and more art classes, but the classes were more intense, teaching more than just basic techniques, diving deeper and forcing the students to expand their skills. There was also a dreadfully painful art history class that could be so interesting, talking about what was popular when, how different mediums developed over the years, except it was taught by someone the ghost history professor from Harry Potter was probably based on and Zayn was lucky if he could stay awake through it long enough to take legible notes. 

There was more studio time though as well, which was great because even if someone was looking over his shoulder far more than they’d been the previous year, picking at his technique and questioning why he was doing what he was doing, it was always better to be making art rather than talking about it. He had a corner of the studio now with his own locked cabinet of his supplies so he didn’t have to lug them back and forth. It was a cozy little place for him, mostly because it felt safe and he could get lost in it. He’d reached a point not long into the semester where he was able to get so caught up he needed to set an alarm to remind him to head to his afternoon classes.

Just like always, he got lost in his work until the alarm went off, not expecting the chuckle next to him that came after he shook himself out of his own thoughts and stopped the buzzing. “Do you always get that lost?” a voice behind him asked. Zayn jolted but turned to see who it was, relaxing at the sight of his professor, Dr. Murdoch. 

“Sometimes,” he admitted softly, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. 

“I’ve gotten used to that alarm. It reminds me it’s time for lunch,” Murdoch said with another light laugh. “I am eager to see what you’ll put together this year though. I’ve heard good things from your professors from last year.” 

That was surprising news. Zayn had gotten good marks, but he hadn’t heard about anyone thinking anything one way or another about him. He didn’t think he stood out enough that his professors would have passed the news on to someone else. “Really?” 

Murdoch nodded and reached for another stool, pulling it up closer to Zayn’s to sit with him. “I know the alarm is for class, but if you’ve got a moment?”

There was a moment of panic that ran through Zayn’s mind and he bit his lip, worried that it was a bad thing. “Um, sure.” He tapped his toes on the rung of the stool, fingers twisting together and smearing the paint on them more. 

“Don’t worry,” Murdoch said. “I can see you worrying.” Zayn laughed, feeling silly for being so obvious. “I was hoping we could talk about what you’re gonna accomplish this year.” 

Zayn opened his mouth to answer then realized he didn’t have an answer, which left him making a puzzled face, tapping his fingers against the edge of the stool. “I don’t know if I have a plan.” 

Murdoch nodded. “Well, we’ll have to work on that. I know what I’d like to see, but in the end, it’s always your choice.” 

“What do you want to see?” That seemed like a safe place to start. 

“I’ve seen what you can do with one medium,” he explained. “I’d like to see you experiment with others. And trying to take the work you’ve done on your smaller surfaces blown up to the larger. May I?” he asked, touching Zayn’s sketchbook. Zayn nodded, chewing on his lower lip, but not upset now, just curious. 

Murdoch flipped through a few pages and stopped on set of sketches that Zayn had done of his roommates as superheros, mostly just goofing around, giving Liam sort of a Cyclops power and Niall something similar to Jubilee. “Something like this,” he said. “This level of detail and attention. You can’t get it with spray paint, but I’d love to see you try and make it bigger.”

Zayn looked at the drawing then the canvas he had been working on, trying to picture it larger. “It doesn’t have to be this, obviously,” Murdoch continued. “But you’ve already got a handle on the detail at this size. I’d love to see what comes out of trying to make it larder. I imagine you’d surprise yourself.” 

His professor was right. If Zayn could translate it, he would surprise himself. It was daunting, trying to make the proportions work on a larger scale, but he supposed the point of going to art school was to learn something new. “I can try.” 

Murdoch nodded and handed Zayn the sketchbook back. “That’s all I ask. Try something different.” Zayn smiled, putting the sketchbook away with a nod. Murdoch got up, patting Zayn’s shoulder and starting away before turning back. “Also, I meant to mention, there’s a gallery nearby. They always want artists from the school to hang their work up and I’d love to have some of your things to give to them. Might even be able to sell something.” 

Zayn felt his eyes go wide. “Really?” 

“Really. Something to keep in mind, right?” Zayn nodded and Murdoch smiled again before leaving. Zayn clutched his sketchbook, looking at the canvas, then down at the faded cover of the book. That was definitely something to keep in mind. 

\------

It was probably close to three am when Zayn drug himself back into the flat, headphones on, blaring something loud enough to keep him awake through the walk home, beanie pulled down over his ears against the cool weather. It had gotten cold faster than usual, but Liam kept saying it couldn’t last, that it would get warmer at some point. Zayn didn’t have the heart to tell him that just meant after a week of nice weather, it’d be back to freezing and maybe early snow. It took too much effort to turn the key in the lock to the front door and he contemplated just sleeping against it, standing up because he was that tired. 

The hallway was draftier than their flat though, so Zayn forced himself to twist key. All he had to do was make it to the couch. He could sleep there until Liam got up three hours from now for a run or a workout or some other ridiculous healthy thing and hopefully that would be enough sleep that Zayn would have the energy to get from there to his bed. Or maybe Liam would carry him there. That would also be super awesome. Liam was strong enough. He could bench press Zayn. 

He dropped his things by the door, and stumbled over a pair of shoes that were too small to be anyone’s that lived there. Zayn blinked at the space by the door, Liam’s neat little shoe rack with his shoes lined up, Niall’s left shoe (the right had missed the rack by about six inches and was on the floor by the wall) and a pair of Zayn’s boots. The shoes he’d tripped over were a pair of Vans in purple, dropped in the middle of the entryway. Becca? There was another pair of dressier shoes that were definitely girl shoes on the rack under Liam’s shoes. Zayn had a guess that Liam put them there. 

Shoes left about as trip hazards wasn’t currently the important issue. The important issue was getting himself to the couch. He stumbled that way, one hand on the wall to keep himself steady, but a noise made him stop before he got there. A voice he knew all too well shushed someone and Zayn was too tired roll his eyes at him. Damnit Niall. 

“I hate you a little,” he told the figure coming into focus the longer he stood in the dark. 

“Liar!” Niall was giggling and so was someone else, which meant Zayn had to turn the other way towards his room. His steps got him to the bathroom where he considered sleeping in the tub, but he wound up just stumbling into the room to brush his teeth. He didn’t really want to bother, but he was there and his room was so far away, so why not stop here for a bit. Flicking on the light, he groaned at the bright then blinked a few times as the room came into focus. It was a tiny little bathroom, small counter, a neat little shelf thing Liam had hung on the wall and a towel rack with a tub and a toilet squished in with it. 

Zayn had been pretty sure the only toiletries that had been in the room were three toothbrushes, his and Liam’s hair products, and Niall’s sunscreen. Tonight, almost every shelf was full and there was an actual blowdryer on the counter. “The fuck?” he asked, grabbing his toothbrush, then put it back down again. That looked like his, but there was another blue one. A fourth toothbrush. “Seriously?” 

Liam and Becca hadn’t even been together that long and her shit was everywhere. “Payne. We are having words.” Zayn headed back into the hall to knock on Liam’s door, but didn’t get any further than his room. His bed was in there and it was calling to him. Liam could wait until morning. Or midday. Whenever he woke up. Then he could deal with Liam’s girlfriend and Niall taking up his couch when Niall had a perfectly reasonable room he could be usingl. 

\------

“Ah, there’s the sleepyhead,” Becca teased from where she was perched on the counter. Liam was standing between her legs, but with his back to her so she was leaning over his shoulders, mug of tea in one hand. It kept tilting towards the floor, threatening to spill, but Liam would catch it in time, tilting it back up again. 

Zayn made a face at them then dropped into a seat at the kitchen table, head resting against it with a soft groan. “Shut up.” 

Niall laughed from somewhere in the fridge, then peeked out of it, handing over the milk to Liam, who’d left Becca, taking her mug with him, and to turn on the coffee maker. “Just this once, I’m siding with Zayn. Be nice.” 

“You always side with Zayn,” Becca scoffed, but Niall shrugged. 

“Niall owes me from last night,” Zayn grumbled, peeking up from his arm and kitchen table pillow to see Niall look mildly embarrassed. “I was going to sleep on the couch until Liam got up to do whatever healthy thing he does in the morning and Niall had the couch.”

“Why were you sleeping until I woke up?” Liam asked, reaching for a mug from the cupboard for Zayn..

“I thought you might take me to bed,” Zayn tried. 

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Becca teased, kicking her heels against the cabinets. 

“It’s not like that, Becks,” Liam told her, tone serious as if he didn’t realize she was teasing. Zayn might have laughed at that if he wasn’t still so tired. “Who’s the girl?” Liam asked Niall, which Zayn made an agreeing sort of noise to. That was a question he wanted to ask, but words weren’t coming as easily as he would have liked. 

“Kathryn,” Niall told them with a shrug. “We went out last week and last night. Last night we wound up here on the couch. Though, Zayn’ll be pleased, she left after he almost joined us.”

“Now that I would pay to see,” Becca commented, and Zayn waved a hand at her that meant for her to shut up. Becca was a load of fun when it came to teasing Liam, but he didn’t want to be a target. 

Niall to his credit laughed then took the mug that Liam got, giving Liam a gentle nudge out of the way to make Zayn’s coffee himself. Zayn was exhausted still, but couldn’t fight the smile that the simple action brought out in him so he hid it behind his arm. “I know better than to try and let him join. One look at him and I’d be long forgotten,” Niall said as he set the mug down near Zayn’s hand with a sweet smile, the soft one that was always only for Zayn. 

“Cheers, mate.” Zayn tried not to return to smile, but it was nearly impossible not to get lost in those bright blue eyes. It wasn’t going along with Operation: Over It as he’d named it in his head, but the whole operation was taking longer than originally intended. He’d been sure, spring term of the previous year and summer would be enough, but halfway through fall, Zayn wasn’t making much headway. There’d been a lot of progress as far as getting over the worst of it, being able to deal with the crush as a crush instead of an all-encompassing need, but Niall was still Niall. He wasn’t so much as pushing all the buttons that made Zayn want to kiss and love someone as he was the person all those trigger points had been created around. Just being himself was enough to spark that desire in Zayn. “And no girl is giving you up to be with me.” 

Becca laughed at that and Liam gave her a look. “What? He’s too pretty for words.” Liam’s look shifted to a pout and she grabbed his shirt to drag him back closer. “Lucky for you, he’s too spindly for me. I like a man with a little more meat on his bones.” Liam softened at that, letting Becca kiss him. 

“I think she just called him fat,” Niall said, sitting with Zayn at the table. 

“I think she did,” Zayn agreed with a chuckle into his coffee. Becca flicked them off from behind Liam’s back before Liam could turn around looking hurt. It shouldn’t have made them laugh, that silly puppy dog face of his, but it did and before they could stop themselves, Niall and Zayn had broken down into giggles, elbows touching as they leaned into one another. 

“They’re laughing at me, aren’t they?” Liam asked and Becca nodded. 

“Pretty sure they’re always laughing at you, sweetheart.” She leaned in and kissed his nose then hopped down from the counter. “This has been fun, boys, but I’ve got a meeting to get to. See you later.” She kissed Liam again, longer, then pulled away and went for her coat and shoes. 

Liam waved when she left, then turned back to Niall and Zayn who’d managed to get control of their laughing fit. Niall had his head resting on Zayn’s shoulder, still trembling with suppressed giggles, but behaving nonetheless. “So what had you out so late? Thought you weren’t on the pull anymore,” Liam asked Zayn. 

Zayn sipped at his coffee again, forcing himself not to do more about the fact that it felt like Niall had tensed against him or focus on how Niall had managed to make his coffee perfectly like they were one of those couples. “Not that. I was in the studio. Murdoch thinks he could get me in a gallery, but I need more to work with to submit. And sort of a matching proper series.” 

“Like the hearts from Camp Rock?” Niall sat up more so he could see Zayn. 

“No one called it Camp Rock.” 

“I did,” Niall said with a shrug.

“What hearts?” Liam asked, frowning. 

“Zayn had this set of paintings, all hearts being swallowed by light and dark swirls or like under them, whatever. It was really cool. He had four or so of ‘um,” Niall explained before Zayn could, clearly proud of Zayn’s work, which just made Zayn feel worse about the original subject of the series of paintings. If Niall had ever figured it out, he didn’t say. “But like that yeah?” 

Zayn nodded. “Yeah. He’s just pushing me outside of my comfort zone. He wants me to do more of what I sketch on canvas.” 

Liam frowned. “What you sketch is us,” he said gesturing between himself and Niall. 

“Well, yeah.” 

Liam blushed and Niall’s laugh was just as embarrassed as Liam’s face. “You’re working on something of us that would go in a gallery?” Niall asked. 

Zayn panicked, not realizing that it might bother his roommates to be the subject of his art. It never had before. “Um, is that not okay?” 

Niall looked at Liam who shook his head before Niall spoke again. “Of course it’s okay. It’s just surprising, that’s all. Can’t think of my mug being up on a wall. Liam’s sure, but not me.” 

“Since when are you not as good looking as Liam?” Zayn demanded. Niall was stunning. He was all pale skin and soft features that were still sharp around the edges. He was wide eyes and hair that Zayn could actually draw for days and a smile that Zayn had been struggling to capture in art for years. 

“Since always,” Niall laughed and Zayn reached out and smacked him on the back of his head. 

“Shut up. You’re gorgeous.” 

“Owww,” Niall whined, holding his head. “And you’re biased. I’ve charmed you so you’ll believe anything.” He leaned into Zayn, making kissing noises before smacking a wet kiss against Zayn’s cheek. 

“Ugh, gross. No wonder Kathryn left. You must have slobbered all over her,” Zayn complained, wiping his face off then wiping his hand off on Niall’s arm. 

“God you two are weird,” Liam said with a huffed laugh, shaking his head. Normal people would roll their eyes, but Liam just looked stupidly fond. 

“Like you and _Becks_ are normal,” Niall said, rolling his eyes. 

“We are!” 

“Yeah?” Zayn asked. “What are you?”

Liam pursed his lips slightly, then abruptly started working on cleaning up the mugs from tea. "That's hardly the point," he said. 

"Right. Also. When did Becca move in?" 

"What?" Liam's head shot up and he stared at Zayn. 

"When did she move in?"

"No. I heard you, but she didn't move in..." 

"Her stuff's everywhere," Zayn pointed out. "And she's always here."

Niall nodded with Zayn. "He's right, mate. She is always here."

"Her roommate doesn't like me staying there. And we like to stay together..." Liam started, but stopped and sat down hard across from Zayn. "Oh god."

Zayn reached across and patted Liam's arm. "It's okay. Really." He had been annoyed, but if Liam hadn't even realized, how could Zayn hold that against him? 

Niall laughed and got up, patting Liam's back before going to the fridge again. "You got a girlfriend that moved in and you didn't even realize it. Well done." 

Liam blushed, but looked across at Zayn. "I really like her. She's so...bright. She makes me feel interesting even though I'm not. But I am because I'm around her." 

"You are interesting, but it's okay. I can see that." 

"You think she's my girlfriend? Really?" Liam looked between them and Zayn wanted to reach out and cuddle his adorably clueless roommate.

"Yeah, babe, pretty sure she is. Pretty sure it'd be awkward if she wasn't."

Niall came back to the table with more food than one person should be able to eat, but tucked into it nonetheless. "Does this mean we need girlfriend rules?" he asked with his mouth full. 

"Yes," Liam said, pressing his hands flat on the table. 

"Rules?" Zayn looked at Niall bewildered. "Do you have a girlfriend too?"

"No, but maybe," Niall said before shoving more food in his face. "You could find one too you know, now that you're not sleeping with everyone and their sister. Or a boyfriend if you'd rather." 

Liam opened his mouth, but Zayn shot him a look before he could say anything. "I wasn't sleeping with everyone," Zayn said before Liam could rethink saying something. The last thing he needed was Liam bringing up how Zayn felt about Niall or something close to it. 

"Almost everyone. But you haven't lately. Thought you might have someone in mind." 

"Don't you think I would have told you?" 

Niall shrugged then swallowed whatever he'd been eating. "You don't tell me everything."

"What haven't I told you?" Zayn was flabbergasted and felt his voice rise. He told Niall almost everything and the one thing he didn't, Niall had no reason to think of otherwise. Yelling wasn't going to help, but he couldn't quite reign his emotions in at the suggestion that he was keeping secrets from his best friend. 

"At Eric's party! You were-"

"Girlfriend rules!" 

Liam never shouted and that alone was enough to get Niall to stop talking and pull his and Zayn's attention away from their fight. "You wanted to have rules,” he said calmer, though Niall and Zayn blinked at him for a long moment before Zayn spoke. 

“No sex on the couch,” he started, thinking that was fair; they all had to use the couch and if he went with Liam’s tactic and glossed over the part where Niall mentioned the night that had almost ruined the friendship he could pretend he hadn’t. . 

“Errr….” Liam said, turning pink and rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Liam!” 

“Sorry! I wasn’t...she just…” He blushed again then looked at the table. “I really like her.” 

“Apparently.” Zayn rolled his eyes. “No _more_ sex on the couch.” Liam had a look like he wasn’t sure he could keep that promise, but Zayn gave him a stern enough of a look that he nodded. ‘Niall?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall agreed. “No letting girlfriends take over the bathroom.” 

“Too late,” Zayn said. “Becca’s stuff is already in there. Also, Liam, make her get a new toothbrush. It’s the same color as mine.” 

Liam nodded, obviously taking it too seriously, but at least then Zayn wouldn’t worry about which toothbrush was him when he was tired. 

“No eating anything that isn’t yours out of the fridge,” Niall said. 

“You do that every day,” Zayn countered. “You’re eating Liam’s cereal right now.” 

“It’s different if it’s us,” Niall clarified. 

“How about no eating anything without replacing it. Definitely no finishing the milk without replacing it,” Liam said, compromising between the two. Zayn was pretty sure it was mostly Liam replacing the milk anyhow, but he nodded nonetheless. 

“You know,” Niall started. “If we ask Becca to pay rent we’d always have beer money…” 

“We can’t ask her to pay rent! She doesn’t live here!” Liam looked shocked and appalled that it would even be suggested. 

“Are you sure she doesn’t?” Niall asked and Zayn kicked his shin under the table because Liam went red. Liam could take some good natured teasing, but he was apparently more sensitive about the Becca subject than he was about others and they needed to be aware of that. 

“She doesn’t! I’d know if she moved in with me,” Liam insisted. Zayn wasn’t so sure he would, but he didn’t push that. “Plus she has her own place and a roommate and rent there. She can’t pay rent in two places.” 

“Fine, fine,” Niall conceded. “How about laundry? Can we convince her to do laundry?” 

Liam huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You don’t want her doing laundry. Trust me. Anything else?” 

Zayn considered it for a moment then perked up. “Guys night. Or well, roommate night. One weekend night a week, we do something just us, no significant others allowed. FIFA and pizza or Marvel movies or whatever.” 

“So we don’t accidentally stop hanging out with one another. I like it,” Niall agreed. Liam looked pained for a moment, then nodded. 

“That’s a good idea. We can do with one night without girlfriends,” he said obviously warming up to the idea as he talked through it. He was probably looking at having to convince Becca, but Zayn had faith that Liam would come up with a way to make it work.

“Or boyfriends, if that winds up being the case,” Niall added. Zayn never understood how Niall could be so supportive of Zayn dating guys when he didn’t realize that he was the guy Zayn wanted to date. 

“Or boyfriends,” Zayn continued. “Just us. Good. I think that’s enough, yeah?” The nods around the table were enough to pass the motion and in Zayn’s mind the girlfriend rules were officially in place. 

There was a moment where Liam’s eyes went to the list of instructions on how to keep the flat clean on the fridge, like he wanted to add the new rules to the list, which had Zayn reaching across and touching his arm again. “Glad you’re happy, Li,” he said, feeling bad that he hadn’t said it yet. Liam deserved to be happy, he really did. 

“Yeah, definitely. Way to go, Liam,” Niall agreed punching Liam on the arm. Liam still rubbed at the spot like it hurt and he was as small as he’d been when they met him, but the tight lines of his forced smile faded away as he relaxed at the approval of his friends. It made some of the frustration Zayn had had about Becca fade. What was a toothbrush that looked like his and a couple of shoes being in the way if it made Liam so damn happy?


	9. Chapter 9

“Suck it!” 

Becca threw her arms up in the air as Niall groaned and fell back on the floor in defeat. While he moaned on the floor, Zayn snuck a bite of his pizza, then held out his hand for the controller. “I got winner.” 

“Double or nothing?” Niall said sitting up, staring Becca down. 

“You think you can handle it, Irish? I don’t think you can.” 

“I can. Because I don’t have to cheat to win.” 

“I didn’t cheat!” 

They kept at it and Zayn went for another bite of Niall’s pizza, watching them volley back and forth instead. He’d thought he’d hate having Becca around, but it turned out she was pretty damn awesome. She was killer at FIFA, which was easily the only sport Zayn ever wanted to play ever, she was equally great at making Liam happy and teasing him mercilessly, and one of the best wingmen he’d ever had. Not that he’d had a lot of wingmen, but usually it was Liam or Niall and Becca was on a different plane altogether. Zayn still wasn’t dating really, but there’d been girls and finally guys again, that he’d talked to at parties or chatted up in pubs or the Student Union bar and most of them only bothered because of Becca. He still wasn’t really over Niall like he’d planned to be, but he was feeling less like he had to compare every person to him. No one had been interesting enough for him to consider going out with them, but it was nice to have conversations that might lead to that. In his mind, it was a giant step in the right direction for Operation: Over It. 

“You smell like goat piss!” Niall snapped back and Zayn realized he’d both eaten most of Niall’s pizza slice and lost track of the argument and when it had dissolved in random slurs slung at one another. 

“Well you-” 

Niall’s phone went off, the chorus of Justin Bieber’s “Boyfriend” playing, which meant it was Kathryn calling. “Hold that thought,” he told Becca, who made a face and stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, babe.” He reached for his pizza, but found the plate empty and looked over at Zayn, who put on his best disinterested face as if Niall losing track of what he’d eaten was one hundred percent normal. Luckily for Zayn it pretty much was. “Huh? Oh, yeah. No, cool. Give me um…Fifteen minutes? We can get food on the way, right?”

Zayn rolled his eyes at Niall wanting more food considering there were three pizza boxes for four people on the coffee table. Niall said goodbye to Kathryn, then handed his controller over to Zayn. “Gotta run, lads,” he said, not bothering to correct for Becca since half the time she was as much one of them as Liam. 

“What?” Zayn looked up at Niall and waved the controller he’d been handed. “It’s FIFA night. It’s a thing!” It was part of the rules and Liam had blocked it off on the Peppa Pig calendar that hung on the wall not long after they’d laid down the terms of ‘girlfriend rules’. He’d broken the rules three weeks in when he invited Becca, but to her credit, she usually brought beer and they’d made an exception. Niall leaving, though, clearly broke the code. 

“I was here for the first half!” Niall was already grabbing his keys and going back towards his room for his coat. “I promised her I’d help her out with some recording and this is the only night she’s free!” 

“But FIFA night!” Zayn had to lean backwards to shout it towards where Niall had gone, but Niall didn’t answer. “Come on, Liam, you get it, right?” Liam had put it on the calendar. It was right there with Peppa and that made it sacred. Only Liam was looking at his watch and then Becca.

“Well...actually…” Becca started, setting the controller she’d been using on the coffee table. 

“No. Not you, too.” Zayn could hear himself whining, but seriously? How was this happening.

“We’ve got movie tickets,” Liam explained. "It’s down at the art cinema. They’re only airing the film tonight.” He looked sheepish at least, but Zayn couldn’t argue with that. Becca was studying film and that was completely her thing, so odds were it was some weird indie movie that Zayn wouldn’t have wanted to see even if he’d been up for playing third wheel. “We could do it again another night?” 

Zayn shook his head and waved Liam off. “No, no, go. Have fun.” Liam looked relieved and he and Becca got up, gathering their coats and shoes to go. “You too, Niall,” he added when the blonde emerged again and headed for the door.

“You gonna be alright?” Liam asked Zayn even though he was already in his coat and holding the door open for Becca.

“Totally fine. Peachy. Go or you’ll be late.” Zayn waved as they left, dropping the controller and leaning back against the couch once the door was shut. “Figures.” 

He gave himself a few minutes of wallowing, listening to the menu screen on the game loop a few times, then he dug out his phone to check the time. It wasn’t late yet and he wasn’t tired, which meant he could head down to the studio and get work done. It wasn’t a thrilling way to spend a Friday night, but it was either working or laying on the couch waiting for his friends to come home. He’d figured out a while ago that heading to the studio was always the better choice because more than half the time when they came home they headed straight for bedrooms. 

It had started slowly, somewhere around fall midterms, but Zayn had been too focused on finishing his first series to really pick up on it. Everyone had been busy then and it was no surprise that no one was around. Niall was in practice rooms either helping Kathryn record her music or working on his own for his midterm reviews. Liam was often in the library studying, the studio producing, or being Becca’s gaffer while she shot short scenes for her classes. Zayn had assumed it would die down after midterms, but it hadn’t. 

Now, with midterms of spring term creeping up, Zayn was starting to realize that was just how it was. He spent more time alone at the flat than he ever thought he would, while Liam and Becca were at her place or doing work somewhere and while Niall was out with Kathryn. His roommates weren’t completely absent, but it wasn’t a surprise anymore when everyone left and he was by himself. 

It was the sort of thing that would have bothered him in the past, but maybe he’d grown up or something because it wasn’t all _that_ bad. There were times when he was lonely, wandering through the flat, not able to find somewhere comfortable to sit or lay for longer than a few minutes. His room felt too secluded in an empty flat. There wasn’t a reason to be in the kitchen if he wasn’t hungry. There wasn’t anything on the telly but bad reruns and he couldn’t watch the latest Top Gear episode they had saved without Niall and Liam. 

In the end it had made sense to start spending all his free time in the studio. He could kill hours there and not miss anything with his friends. If he was feeling lonely, he just worked it into his paintings. He’d tried sketching at home, rather than trudging through late winter snow to get to the studio, but he’d wound up drawing a comic strip like he used to do for Niall of himself wandering aimlessly around the apartment. Apparently the studio was the better venue for channeling those emotions into something useful instead of childish and whiny. 

Zayn shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets as he walked towards the studio, headphones on, but even a hardcore Rihanna cover wasn’t killing the thoughts swirling around in his head. His roommates had left him alone plenty lately, but no one had broken FIFA and Pizza Night. They’d bent the girlfriend rules all over the place, yes, but not that one. Kathryn was shyer and didn’t hang around long enough to get too involved in the details, and Becca, despite being messier than any of them, refused to clean even though it was clearly stated that that was part of of the deal. And Zayn had caught Liam and Becca going at it on the couch twice since they’d set the ‘no sex on the couch’ rule had been established. FIFA and Pizza Night wasn’t even that set in stone, flexed from a weekend day to a Thursday when necessary and of course they’d let Becca join, but it had always been there. Never once had people made plans over it and left early. It worried Zayn that it might become a habit, but he wasn’t at all sure how to stop it from happening. 

\--------

The lights were making him anxious and the tie felt like it was trying to choke him, but Zayn was pretty sure most of that was nerves that had been around since before he’d left for the gallery that evening and that his tie wasn’t actually a noose come to life. Murdoch had gotten his stuff in the little storefront in downtown Manchester a few times, small series of paintings in the back for people who wandered in to look at the art then wandered back out afterward. This time there was a proper opening, a chance for the featured artists to show off their work to possible patrons and people looking to actually purchase the art. There’d been a flyer that went out for the event with his name on it and everything, something Zayn had tacked to the fridge so everyone would know about it. 

The girl holding a tray of champagne glasses passed him for the third time and stopped, holding one out to him. “You look like you could use it,” she said with a wink, then disappeared into the crowd. Zayn didn’t think he did, but he wound up gulping the bubbling drink down faster than intended. As he wondered what he should do with the empty glass, he heard a familiar voice raising up over the soft music playing and the idle chatter around him. 

“There he is, there’s Zayn Malik!” 

Zayn looked to the door, catching of sight of Becca in a sparkly dress that was just shy of being too short and tight enough to be scandalous. She looked gorgeous. Liam trailed behind her, done up in his own suit, looking like freaking David Beckham being guided around by Posh and, despite the scene that Becca was geared up to make, Zayn loved them instantly. 

Becca was on him in a moment, pressing an air kiss to either side of his cheeks as if they were fancier people than a bunch of starving art students, then pulled back to tuck her arm into his. “Just as gorgeous in person as your artwork, aren’t you?” she said, speaking too loud so everyone would hear her and dragging Zayn to his paintings. “Liam, _love_ , just look at this, will you?” She patted Liam, who couldn’t quite contain his smile as well as she could, but he nodded as sagely as he could muster. 

“Works of art, really.” 

“Obviously. Love, I need to get your eyes checked if you’re not completely blown away by this man’s talent. Or were you too busy staring at his ass?” Becca laughed as Liam blanched, then she groped Zayn’s ass which made Liam’s eyes go wider. “It does look fabulous by the way. These pants are wonderful,” she added under her breath. “Excellent choice. Did any rich old ladies hit on you yet?” 

Zayn tried to squirm away from her, but the hold she had on him was too good. “What are you doing?” he giggled, unable to help himself. He loved when Becca was like this, all brash and funny. 

“I’m making everyone notice you, you git. If they see a handsome couple interested, they’ll be interested too.” She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, then picked up the louder voice once more. “Now hurry up and tell me about everything,” she said and Zayn had to fight giggles again. 

They stayed making their scene until Zayn had walked them through every painting and then Becca made a grand exit, kissing him for real on one cheek then dragging Liam with her with a promise to see him at home later. He hadn’t expected the trick to work, but it did. More than one person came up to him after, curious about his artwork, giving him time to explain it as they studied it. It helped pass the time and Zayn was far less nervous, but when he glanced at his phone and realized the opening only had another forty-five minutes left and he’d yet to see Niall, the nerves flared up again. He politely thanked the last person that complimented his art, then turned towards the door, watching for Niall. When the girl with champagne passed again, he stopped her himself, grabbing a glass and swallowing it down fast enough that bubbles went up his nose. 

It wasn’t enough though, so he grabbed another glass once she was close enough again, pacing slightly in the space where his paintings were hung. He checked his phone once more, down to only half an hour left and still no sign of Niall. 

What if he didn’t come? Would he miss this? He’d never missed any showing of Zayn’s art before. Not at art camp, not any other time he’d been in the gallery or his stuff had just been hung up in the studio. Niall had always been there. Zayn had told them about the opening two weeks ago, the moment he’d found out he’d be in it, and now Niall was going to miss it? How could that happen?

Zayn had just grabbed a fourth glass, feeling the buzz from the alcohol and bubbles and checking his phone to prove there were only 15 minutes left, when someone said his name. He turned to see Niall waving at him, dressed in the suit he’d bought for his cousin’s wedding the previous summer, and dragging Kathryn behind him. 

“Sorry, mate!” Niall was saying as he wrapped Zayn up in a one armed hug, then pulled back and looking at his glass. “I need one of those.”

Zayn handed the glass over to Niall without even thinking about it and smiled at Kathryn. “Thanks for coming,” he told her and she smiled politely back at him. If she hadn’t been with Niall, he might have demanded to know why Niall was late, why Becca and Liam had made a better showing, but Zayn didn’t feel right doing that in front of Niall’s girlfriend. 

“Ah, mate, look at these!” Niall had already finished the glass off and was dragging Kathryn towards Zayn’s paintings. The sense of pride that came with Niall being able to recognize his art without being told which was his was there again, though he supposed this series was easier considering it was Zayn’s friends. He’d picked a color for each of them, using it as the accent while everything else was done in blacks and whites. Niall’s color was obviously blue, his eyes glinting out of the canvas in a shocking contrast to the rest of the painting. “Told you he was great,” Niall was telling Kathryn, but she didn’t do more than nod. 

She and Niall had gotten somewhat serious over the past few months, regular date nights, spending time over at one another’s places. But when she stayed at the flat, she didn’t linger in the mornings or on weekends like Becca did. And when she went out with them, the brunette tended to be quiet, silently observing everyone around them. Occasionally, she'd add input, but Niall had assured them that she’d warm up once she was more comfortable around people. 

Only Kathryn had never seemed to get comfortable around Zayn. Liam and Becca swore she was friendly and the quiet kind of funny, but Zayn never saw that. Around him, she always seemed a little guarded, watching him and Niall interact. Even now, she only nodded at the artwork while Niall babbled on about how great it was, and she kept looking at the Niall picture instead of whichever one Niall was speaking of. Once she glanced back at Zayn and he did his best to smile at her. She didn't quite smile back. 

They couldn't linger long like Liam and Becca had because the opening ended, but they stayed with Zayn while he gathered his things then chatted with the owner about the interest in his work. It turned out Becca and Liam's show had worked even better than he’d originally expected and someone wanted to buy a couple of the pieces. Zayn was flabbergasted that anyone wanted his work or would pay actual money for it, but apparently they did. He was a little shell shocked when he got back to Niall, but the proud grin and the tight hug Niall gave him were like the old days. When they headed out, popping umbrellas against the rain that had started, Zayn pointed down the street. "Pub?" There was one a few doors away and it seemed like the perfect way to celebrate good news. He'd sold his first painting! If there was ever a reason to drink, that was it! 

Niall hesitated though, biting his lip. Niall never did that and Zayn knew it was a bad sign. "You've got plans. Right. That's okay," Zayn said before Niall could. There was something about turning himself down, rather than actually hearing Niall do it, that made the blow less painful. It still hurt like hell that his best friend couldn’t celebrate with him, but if he was being gracious and letting him keep his plans, then Niall wasn’t really blowing him off. "Go, have fun." He waved them off before Niall could apologize. Niall looked like he didn't want to go, but he still left with Kathryn. Zayn considered the pub alone, but changed his mind. Liam and Becca said they'd be at home. He could celebrate with them. 

But when he opened the door to the flat, it was dark and empty. Zayn sighed, tossing his umbrella away and kicking off his shoes before heading towards the kitchen to get a beer. He didn't turn any of the lights on, making it to the fridge to grab a bottle and opening it in the dark, leaning against the counter. 

Something needed to change. 

\--------

Zayn could hear them yelling when he got to the door. It was mostly muffled voices, but it was definitely Becca shouting at Liam. Liam didn’t really shout back, but as Zayn opened the door he could make out the stony terse response he gave his girlfriend. 

“I don’t want you to _change_ , Becks. I want to talk about this so we can get to the bottom of it.” Liam sounded like the words were painful to even say, like he was struggling with trying not to lose his temper. 

“So you can lecture me about how you think I’m wrong? I don’t think so. That’s not a discussion, Liam, that’s an attack!” 

Zayn cleared his throat before Liam could launch into his response, poking his head into the kitchen where Liam and Becca were having their fight. Liam clamped his mouth shut and Becca jumped up to greet Zayn, grabbing him around the shoulders and dragging him into the kitchen like some sort of real life buffer. “Look, Liam! It’s Zayn!” The look on Liam’s face said the fight was clearly not over and Zayn’s presence wasn’t doing anything more than putting it on hold, but Becca ignored him. “Zayn, how was your day?” 

“Fine, I suppose.” Zayn wiggled a little, trying to get out of the headlock hold, but it still took a long moment before Becca gave him up. “How about you?” he asked, but his eyes were on Liam not Becca, and he made a tiny dash for the fridge because it put him less between them and out of Becca’s reach. 

“Fine,” Becca answered brightly before Liam could answer, though Liam’s face said fine was definitely not how is day had been. Zayn gave him a moment to correct Becca, but he didn’t. 

“Err. Alright. Actually, wanted to ask you about something, Becks,” Zayn said, casting one more glance at Liam, not wanting to do this now, but not wanting to wait. He’d held off on asking for a few days, letting the guys celebrate his achievement with him the day after he found out, which was still fun, but didn’t quite make up for missing out on the chance to go out with his friends the night of. It would have been way more fun than drinking four beers alone, half drawing and mostly just wallowing in his room before passing out, only to be woken up by Becca and Liam having sex loudly. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” Becca pushed herself up onto the counter, eyes completely on Zayn as if he was the most important thing in the room when Zayn knew full well she was avoiding looking at her boyfriend. 

“You mentioned a friend of yours, might be interested in going out with me…” Zayn started, knowing Becca would pick up the rest. He hated the idea of a blind date, but after the night alone he’d decided that was what had to happen. His friends had girlfriends and he needed to find someone so that when big things did happen there was a person who was guaranteed to be there with him to celebrate or commiserate. No more hoping his roommates would be free. No more being left alone if his roommates skipped FIFA Night. 

Becca was instantly thrilled. Whatever anger she’d had towards Liam was forgotten as she clapped her hands together. “Alexandra! Yes! Oh, you’re going to love her,” she said, bouncing at the thought of playing matchmaker. “Ah, this is great. I’ll give her your phone number, yeah? You’ll love her, promise.” She hopped down for the counter, still vibrating with the idea, then grabbed her bag off the kitchen table. “I’ve got to run, but I’ll text her straight away. Ah! If you go out with her, we can double! Hah! What fun!” She waved goodbye to both of them, then left the flat. When Zayn looked back at Liam, he couldn’t place the look on his best friend’s face. It was a combination of confusion, but different types of confusion, and frustration. 

Zayn watched Liam for a moment, giving him time to speak if he wanted to, but when Liam didn’t say anything he nudged his friend’s elbow. “So what was that about?” 

“Nothing.” Liam didn’t hesitate in saying it, but just like before Zayn waited. This time Liam’s shoulders slumped and he ran his fingers through what little hair he had, getting them twisted up in it. “She’s having to re-sit three of her classes. And she’s mad at me because I suggested maybe she didn’t pick the right program if she didn’t like it enough to do the work. And that I told her she needed to do the work and…” Liam waved one hand as if that explained the rest of it. 

The sad thing was, Zayn was able to piece it together well enough. One thing had led to another and they’d wound up fighting. It was starting to happen a lot more often, the volleyed teasing that seemed a little too hurtful to be fun, the harsh whispers. But they were keeping it to themselves, never really having it out where everyone else could know about it. After every fight though, they were more all over each other than usual, to the point where it was easier to tell when they’d been fighting by how they made up. 

“What’s she going to do?” 

Liam sighed. “She can re-sit two of them this summer, then the other in the fall. But I don’t know what to do with her. I don’t know if she’ll do the work this summer either and, if she screws up again, they’ll drop her from the program. She says I’m being overbearing, but I’m just trying to help.” 

“She’ll come around. Even when you are being pushy, it always comes from a good place. And she’ll sort out school. She’s not stupid, so that’s not the problem.” 

“She just doesn’t care sometimes. I don’t know how…” Liam sighed again, then nudged Zayn instead. “What about you? Since when are you interested in dating?” 

Zayn half-shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since everyone else is? I’m always here alone. It’s dull and lonely and I don’t want to do it anymore.” 

“But what about Niall?” 

“What about him? He’s with Kathryn,” Zayn said. “And he doesn’t like guys.” 

“But at Eric’s…” Liam started, but Zayn cut him off with a shake of his head.

“Nothing. And that was well over a year ago. Nothing’s going to happen. I’m...I think I’m over it.” Getting over Niall had been Zayn’s plan since that night, but only recently did it really start to feel like Operation: Over It had worked. 

“Over him?” Liam sounded skeptical. 

“Yeah, I mean...every little thing doesn’t get me worked up and I’ve handled this Kathryn thing well enough. When he almost missed the opening, I was more upset that my best friend was missing it, rather than the guy I’m in love with. And when I got home alone that night, I wasn’t lonely because he wasn’t there, or because he was with his girlfriend; I was lonely because I didn’t have one to hang out with.” Zayn let out a breath, feeling more resigned than ever. “It’s time to change something.” 

Liam stared at him for a long moment and Zayn could see the gears in his mind working, trying to determine if Zayn meant it or if he was putting on a brave face. Zayn had done the brave face plenty, the carefully built facade of happiness or readiness for the next step, but this time he was really feeling it. He waited for Liam to get there, watching as the last piece clicked into place, and Liam nodded. “Fair enough then. You know, there’s a guy in my class that might be your type. If both is still a thing.” 

“Is both still a thing for you?”

“I have a girlfriend,” Liam pointed out, but grinned a little. “And I’ve had my eye on this fit bloke in my classes that _someone_ should date because it’s a waste otherwise.” 

Zayn laughed and nodded. “Then still both for me as well. I can meet him. Just set it up.” 

Liam stared at him again, still trying to sort Zayn out, but after a moment he nodded. “I can do that. Look at you, two dates at once, huh?” 

“Yeah, maybe. Gotta try a few things before you find the right one. Kissing frogs and all that.” 

“This guy’s no frog. Neither is Becca’s friend.” Liam patted Zayn on the back, then moved around him to leave the kitchen. “Good for you though.” He paused then continued. “I like the idea, of you and Niall, but you’re right, there’s no point in getting caught up in something that might not happen.” Liam was ever the optimist apparently, saying that it might not happen instead of it never happening like Zayn was starting to think. “So, good for you,” Liam repeated, smiling softly before squeezing Zayn’s shoulder and heading towards his room. 

\----------

Liam’s friend’s name was Linus. He was just as good looking at Liam said he was, blonde hair in a soft swoop off his face with a bright smile. He’d agreed to the date quickly, but it had taken them twenty minutes to agree on what to do. It should have just been coffee or dinner, but apparently Linus was one of those outdoorsy types that suggested things like rock climbing and a renting a boat to row around the lake at the local park. It was a lovely notion, but Zayn was pretty sure he didn’t want to embarrass himself with his massive lack of coordination. The best way to make an impression was not by falling in the lake or not being able to make it any further than four feet off the ground of a rock climbing wall. They’d landed on coffee and a safer walk around the park, but despite Zayn wanting there to be that spark, it just wasn’t there. Linus did agree to sit for him though, let Zayn sketch him at some point, so it wasn’t a total loss. 

Alexandra was something else though, friendly and fun to be around, opting to meet at the pub she worked at part time. Pints and a conversation about who did the best covers of pop songs was a much better first date. At the end of the night he walked her home, laughing at something she’d said outside her building, completely surprised when she leaned in and kissed him, laughter still on her lips. He let the kisses linger, his hand twisting in her hair at her cheek to keep her close. 

“Can I see you again?” she asked. Zayn was pretty sure there wasn’t an answer other than yes. He’d be an idiot for the answer not to be yes. He nodded against her forehead, kissing her again.

“Day after tomorrow?” he countered, which made her smile brightly.

“You got it.” Zayn kissed her once more then let her pull away, watching until she let herself in the building before heading home. He was humming to himself when he got back to the flat, pleased with how that had gone and the possibility for more. It was like turning over a new leaf. Or well it was. 

“Niall?” 

The blonde was sitting on the couch, one foot on the coffee table, the other on top of a football, rolling it back and forth. The television was on mute, some old game flicking across the screen. There were a few empty beer bottles scattered about, but the one in Niall’s hand had Zayn’s attention. And that he didn’t answer. “Ni?” he repeated it louder, moving closer, and finally Niall looked up. 

“Oh, hey, didn’t hear you come in,” he said, shaking his head and moving the whiskey from his lap to the couch next to him so it wasn’t as obvious, as if putting it aside would make it go away. He rubbed at his face with his free hand, sitting up more and rolling the ball away. “How was your date?” 

“Great,” Zayn said, sitting on the coffee table across from his best friend. It was dim in the living room, but he could tell something was clearly wrong. Niall was mostly drunk with bloodshot eyes, but Niall was a happy drunk and this version of Niall was not happy. 

Niall looked green for half a moment then nodded, putting on a smile that was beyond fake. “Great. Great. You deserve great.” He pointed at Zayn and nodded again, then dropped his hand and let out a loud breath. “Great.” It wasn’t the fake happy from before, but a sad whisper. 

“What happened, mate?” Zayn asked softly, reaching for the bottle as it threatened to tilt to one side and spill all over the couch. It wasn’t a nice couch by any means, but it didn’t need to smell like whiskey. Plus, what a waste.

He had to give his best friend credit; Niall was definitely putting on a brave face, shaking his head and patting Zayn’s knee. “Tell me about the date. Linus, right? Liam’s fit bloke?” There was something off in Niall’s eyes when he said it, something about his tone that didn’t fit right. If it was anyone else, Zayn would have assumed bitter, but Niall didn’t really do bitter over anything outside of football and rugby loses. 

“Alexandra. Linus was too fit. Like into being fit and you know me.” 

“Right, klutzy mess you are.” Niall seemed to accept Alexandra better than Linus, but something was still massively wrong. 

“Seriously, Ni, what’s up? You’re pissed with no one around and it’s not even a game you care about on the telly.” 

The hand Niall had on Zayn’s knee curled around it, gripping just a little tighter than necessary. “Kathryn dumped me,” he admitted in a hoarse whisper that Zayn wouldn’t have heard if Niall hadn’t somehow drawn himself so close. 

“Oh, Ni.” Zayn instantly felt terrible for his friend. He could tell how much he liked Kathryn, how happy she seemed to make him, and now to have that taken away had to have been a blow. He ran a hand along Niall’s arm, trying to be soothing, but in an instant Niall was pulling him in for an awkward hug that had Zayn half being pulled onto the couch and Niall half pulled into the space between the couch and the coffee table. 

Zayn shuffled himself forward so he wasn’t in Niall’s lap, which seemed to be where Niall was trying to get him, and next to him on the couch. It seemed the better option than Niall winding up on the floor as Zayn wasn’t sure he’d be able to get him back up again. There was more shifting and jostling until they were sorted, Zayn with his feet tucked under him and Niall resting on his shoulder, arms wound around Zayn’s waist. Zayn ran his fingers through the blonde locks, petting Niall gently. “What happened?” 

Silence stretched between them for a long moment before Niall answered, bumping his nose against Zayn’s throat when he did. “She said we weren’t looking for the same thing. My priorities were in the wrong place.” Niall’s breath was warm against Zayn’s neck, his lips grazing the collar of Zayn’s shirt and the skin of his collarbone, but Zayn didn’t feel the shiver might have in the past. That kind of proximity of mouth to skin was normally enough to send every single one of Zayn’s nerve endings into overdrive, but apparently not this time. This time he just hugged Niall closer, purely out of comfort for his friend and not chasing a sensation.

“What priorities could you have that were different?” Zayn couldn’t think of any. Niall spent tons of time with Kathryn and they seemed to be on the same page about everything. 

“She wouldn’t say. She said it wasn’t her place to tell me,” Niall huffed. “It sounded like a crock of shit, but apparently I’m supposed to figure it out on my own.” 

That was weird. What on earth did Niall need to sort out about himself? As far as Zayn knew, Niall was extraordinarily self-aware, minus him not giving himself enough credit where his looks were concerned, but that was it. Niall knew just how funny he was, just how charming, and sometimes just how annoying. He knew what he wanted to do when he got out of school and he knew what would be a good back up plan to that if it fell through. Zayn didn’t see how there was anything left he’d need to figure out. 

“Her loss then, mate,” Zayn said softly, still trying to be reassuring. 

Niall nodded against his shoulder before pulling back a little. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?” 

Zayn blinked twice, not at all sure what he was looking at. Niall had never really asked before. He’d just...done. Or Zayn had just done. They’d crawled into one another’s beds, they’d fallen asleep together, but never had either one of them asked the other for permission. That was enough to be jarring, but the look on Niall’s face was something else entirely. He looked needy, almost desperate, as if what he needed was Zayn. To be in Zayn’s bed. That couldn’t be it. It couldn’t. 

But that didn’t make it any less there. 

It should have sent Zayn into a spiral. It should have drowned him in his emotions, in his uncertainty at what was going on between them, what that look and that question meant, but it didn’t. Zayn felt the distinct absence of that, yes, but he still couldn’t muster up the feelings that he might normally have with it. 

All he felt was that his friend needed him and he wanted nothing more than to be there for him. Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to Niall’s temple, ignoring the way Niall’s eyes fluttered shut. It didn’t mean anything. “You never have to ask. You know that.” 

“I know, but I thought…” Niall trailed off and Zayn waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. It was something he normally would have obsessed on or pushed for NIall to tell him what he was thinking, but Zayn didn’t this time. He didn’t feel the need. 

“Come on then. Let’s get you to bed. You’ll need some sleep if you’re going to explain the mess you left for Liam to clean up.” Though Zayn already had a plan to text Liam about the breakup so he’d know. He climbed off the couch, then pulled Niall up with him, not at all surprised when Niall’s arm wound up back around his waist and his head back on his shoulder. It was a little awkward to get Niall under his arm given the slight height difference, but he did it, guiding them back towards his room. 

After giving Niall a little push towards the bed, Zayn texted Liam and dumped his phone and wallet on the nightstand. When he looked up, Niall was down to boxers but hesitating, fingers curled in the hem of his shirt. That was new too. Niall had never been one to hesitate with stripping, never unsure if he wanted his clothes on or off, but apparently he was drunk enough to care now. “However you’ll be comfortable,” Zayn reminded gently, pulling off his own shirt before sitting to undo his boots and kick out of his jeans.

He felt the bed shift behind him, glancing over one shoulder to see Niall already curled on his side, facing away from Zayn, t-shirt still on. Once free of his clothes, Zayn crawled under the covers, cuddling up close to Niall and wrapping an arm around his waist, pressing his nose into the back of Niall’s neck. He smelled like booze, but still so much like Niall. It would have been a heady scent before, but now it was just comforting, like being home. 

Niall’s fingers played with Zayn’s for a moment before lacing their hands together and pulling Zayn’s arm around him tighter. Zayn went with it, determined to be whatever Niall needed, holding him close. “It’s gonna be okay, Nialler. I promise.” 

Niall didn’t answer, but nodded, sniffing at the end of it. Zayn didn’t sleep right away, listening to soft sniffles of held back tears, not pushing, not expecting an explanation, just letting Niall have his emotions as he needed them. Eventually the blonde’s breath evened out, tears forgotten and sleep taking over. Zayn waited until he was sure Niall was asleep before letting sleep tug him under as well, nose pressed against Niall’s back, arm around him as if it could protect his friend from everything in the world. 

\------------- 

“Good! You’re dressed,” Niall said, after letting himself into Zayn’s room. Zayn would have protested about that, but Niall had a good point. He’d not bothered with more than a pair of sweats since stumbling towards the kitchen for coffee, then going back to his room to draw, until about half an hour ago. Niall had hung out with him some, sitting on his bed and fucking with the music Zayn had playing, changing songs as he wanted to here and there. 

“I am, wasn’t going to spend the whole day in bed.” 

“We had a good afternoon,” Niall protested, leaving Zayn shaking his head. 

“Of course, but what’s it matter that I’m dressed?” He ducked his head to look in his mirror, trying to tame his hair. It had a blonde streak in the front now that he wasn’t a huge fan of, but Alexandra had talked him into because she liked it. He was still getting used to it and the look Liam gave him every time he saw it, like it surprised him. 

“There’s a party tonight over on campus. I was thinking we could get dinner, then hit up the pub, and then head over. Regular lads night.” Niall was bouncing on his toes, obviously eager to get out. He’d been sort of a homebody after the break up, which was different for him, but no one was judging. Zayn and Liam had been the same way in the past. 

Good as it was that Niall wanted to go out, Zayn still looked pained when he glanced up at Niall, hating the way his friend’s shoulders fell. “I can’t,” he said, but Niall saw it coming. 

“Why? Where are you going?” Niall looked crushed, going to sit on the bed. 

“Going out with Alexandra,” Zayn explained. 

“You haven’t been out with her in like two weeks.” 

It was true. They’d had a great first date, a good second one, but struggled to schedule a third. It wasn’t a lack of interest, but a mess of competing schedules and Zayn taking some time to focus on his friend when his friend needed him. At the most, it had been random late night hook ups that consisted of one of them headed to the other’s place to fall into bed together, then out the door later that night or early in the morning. It hardly amounted to a relationship, but it served to make their third date all that more vital. “We haven’t been free at the same time until tonight.” 

“But the party,” Niall protested and Zayn turned to lean back against his dresser. 

“Liam?” 

Niall sighed and fell back against Zayn’s bed. “He’s out with Becks,” he grumbled. “Mandatory date night or something.” 

Zayn shrugged then nudged Niall’s knee with his boot. “Go by yourself. You know everyone. It’s not like you won’t have friends there.” 

“I don’t want friends there. I want you there,” Niall said from somewhere under the arm that he’d thrown over his face. “We don’t hang out anymore.”

“I spent all day with you,” Zayn said, shaking his head as he grabbed his keys and his wallet. 

“That’s not the same. You’re going out with that girl you never see and I’m stuck without a wingman.” 

Zayn rolled his eyes, trying not to take Niall’s whining too seriously. He wasn’t much of whiner unless food was related and it usually came with an air of joking, but he didn’t sound that way right now. He just was whining. “Since when did you ever need a wingman? Birds love you.” He nudged Niall with his foot again. 

“Who cares about birds?” 

Zayn laughed and grabbed his leather jacket. “You’re the one who wanted a wingman.”

“Not to score,” Niall said, coming out from under his arm and sitting up on Zayn’s bed. “Just to have you there. Are you really wearing that? You do know it’s warm out, right?” he asked nodding towards the jacket.

“Well, yeah, but it makes me look cool.” Zayn slipped into it to prove his point. 

Niall stared for a touch longer than necessary before shaking his head. “It makes you look like the weirdo with a blonde streak in his hair and wearing a leather jacket in the spring.” 

“I thought you liked my hair!” Zayn touched the streak defensively, which just made Niall laugh as he got up and tugged at the jacket so Zayn would take it off. 

“I’ve gotten used to it. I never said I liked it.” Niall tossed the jacket aside then looked at Zayn again. “Also never said I didn’t like it.”

“That’s not cryptic,” Zayn said, but didn’t go for his jacket again. He just stayed close to Niall, trying to sort out what was going on in his friend’s head. He was acting weird, not bad, but odd. Different from how he would normally act. 

“It means it’s impossible for you to not look good. It should look stupid, but it works and you look great, but you shouldn’t.” Niall shrugged then patted Zayn’s chest before heading for the door. “Have fun tonight.” 

Zayn followed after him, calling down the hall as Niall headed to his room. “You too. Go to the party!” Niall shrugged before ducking back into his room with a wave and Zayn wondered if he should be worried. He didn’t feel particularly worried like he might in the past, nor did he feel like he needed to cancel the date because of how Niall was acting, but it was all a touch odd. He stood in the hallway for a moment longer, but without an solution of what to do coming to him, he was left with no other option but to go. Niall could take care of himself. 

\------------

“You and Niall seem cozy again,” Liam asked. It was about as subtle as a bus hitting someone in the side, but Zayn was used to his adorably failed segues. It wasn’t the best follow on topic to the story that Liam had just been telling about a woman desperate for one particular brand of cat food or else her dear Fluffy might perish, but Zayn assumed that the question about Niall was the original goal. The story from Liam’s summer job had been a nice little laugh to soften the blow of the question he really wanted to ask. 

“Are we?” Zayn asked with feigned innocence. 

“He’s gone back to sleeping in your bed most nights,” Liam said, holding up a hand before Zayn could protest. “I do know. I can tell. He was doing it when you were still hooking up with Alexandra, whenever you’d get home, and even more now that she’s not really around.” 

“Nothing’s happening.” If Liam wasn’t going to let him fudge the frequency of the issue, then he was going to use another means to deflect the question. It was alarming how much Liam had figured out though. Zayn hadn’t thought they were being that obvious. 

“Him sleeping in your bed is enough of a happening. Or...it used to be. Is it not anymore?” God love Liam, he looked concerned that something was wrong. 

Zayn mulled the question over and shrugged. “I guess it isn’t.” Liam was right, it had been. It had been more than enough for so long, but now it didn’t really seem to matter. Niall was there, sometimes when he fell asleep, sometimes not until the middle of the night, but it wasn’t something Zayn was fixated on. It just was. It was nice having his best friend so close, but he wasn’t reading into why his best friend needed to be so close. 

He’d thought the first night was a fluke. That something was off between coming back from a great date with a girl he liked and Niall be drunk and heartbroken, but two nights later when Niall had fallen asleep in his bed after watching something on his laptop, it had been the same. Operation: Over It had worked with outstanding results. More time had passed and it still didn’t bother Zayn. Niall was just there, that was it. 

“Wow,” Liam breathed the word out in a little whistle. “That’s it? Just over it?” 

Zayn shrugged again. “Yeah, I guess so. I wanted to be. At first I thought it was because of Alexandra, but when that didn’t pan out and Niall was still there, I guess I realized it was gone.” 

“Huh.” Liam sounded disappointed. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. I mean… I got used to it I guess. Kind of thought eventually…” 

Zayn sighed and wrapped his arms around his middle. “I kind of thought the same thing, but eventually everyone moves on, right?” He looked at Liam who’d shifted from disappointed to worried. “We’re still friends, Liam. I’m not moving on from you either.” 

Liam’s shoulders visible dropped as the tension left them and Zayn made sure to nudge his elbow against Liam’s arm. “You didn’t really think that, did you?” 

“I could see you wanting to move on to new friends!” 

“How!” Zayn shook his head at Liam, letting him unlock the door to their building. It was nice when their schedules aligned and they could walk home together. The shop Liam worked at was just a few blocks from the center where Zayn tutored kids, which meant if they got done the same time they could walk together. It was a nice little quiet time with Liam, at least the times that didn’t come with the probing questions over his relationship with Niall. 

“I’m not that interesting!” Liam held the door for Zayn as Zayn rolled his eyes and slugged his friend in the arm before ducking into the building. 

“You’re insane is what you are. Stop thinking I’m going to stop being your best friend, Liam. You’re unfortunately stuck with me for life.” Zayn hopped up the first few steps, then slowed so Liam could catch up with him. 

“Life?” He probably meant it as a joke, but Liam sounded way too hopeful to be joking. 

“Life, mate. It’s a prison sentence of forever having someone make you stand in the right light, getting paint on everything, and demanding you find someone else to talk to about football nonsense.” 

“You know I actually don’t care about any of those things, right?” 

“Which is what makes you a great friend. And absolutely terrible at taking a joke.” 

Liam paused outside their door, looking at Zayn. “Which part was the joke?” 

Zayn tried to determine if Liam was taking the piss out on him, but apparently not and he wound up snorting out a laugh. “Oh, Liam. You’re adorable. Don’t ever change.”

\------ 

The pub that Niall was working at that summer he’d picked for their open mic night. It was one thing to slave away waiting tables, but apparently all was forgiven for a semi regular spot on the roster once a week. And once a week, Zayn, Liam, and Becca were there, sipping on discounted drinks, cheering on Niall as he played through his usual roster of cover songs. 

He’d just finished off an Ed Sheeran tune, sounding a touch better than Ed himself, before shifting on the stool a little bit. It was enough to get Zayn to sit up more, wondering what had his friend nervous. After two months of open mic nights, nothing about the process seemed to make him anxious. He usually loved it and the deserved attention. “This is my last one,” Niall said into the mic. “And you’ll all probably be relieved it is considering it’s not one you know, but one of my own.” 

That got a round of applause from a few people, including Zayn who didn’t realize his hands were clapping until Liam elbowed him, surprised smile in place. “He never plays his stuff,” Liam whispered. 

“Not here.” He’d done it around the flat and at their art program, but Niall had strictly stuck to covers at the pub, just wanting to get people to like what he did so he could keep playing. Zayn watched his best friend take a deep breath before starting, playing through the first few notes before singing. 

Over the years, Zayn had heard plenty of Niall’s music. It ranged from being about pretty girls to missing home, to continuing to party no matter how old he got, but he’d never written a proper love song. He’d covered a million of them, adding his own spin to the words or the tunes here and there, but nothing had been a true love song that came right from him. Zayn had always written it off on Niall having never been in love. Or so Zayn’d thought. 

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the song was a love song. It was soulful from the jump, talking about how no one would understand, but how that didn’t matter if he and whoever she was stuck together. As the song went on, Zayn found it was him shifting now, sitting up more and setting his pint back on the table so he wouldn’t drop it. 

It wasn’t that the song wasn’t good--it was incredible--but it was familiar. Something Zayn must have done had Liam looking at him, brow creased in concern. “What’s wrong?” 

Niall hit a line, something that was so clearly _them_ and not any her he’d ever been with, but he most definitely used a girl pronoun there. “Nothing, I don’t think.” Zayn was probably reading too much into it. Kathryn had been like him, hadn’t she? That was what Liam had said, that she’d reminded him of a girl version of Zayn, but she’d never warmed up to the idea of Zayn enough for him to see it. 

Liam was still looking at him when Niall finished up the song and they started clapping. Zayn gave him his best ‘I’m completely fine’ look, which Liam clearly didn’t believe, but he went with it, whistling for Niall as Niall got off the stage. Despite the song being an original and not a cover people could sing along to, he got great reception and before long was headed their way with his guitar.

“Sooo,” Becca said, reaching for Niall to pull him into their little U-shaped booth. “Who was that about?” 

Niall flushed pink, trying to remove his arm from her hands as gently as possible and without her noticing, but Becca just switched the grip to one he couldn’t get out of. “No one. Just a song.” 

Becca snorted, proving she didn’t believe Niall any more than Zayn did, but she was the one with free reign to make that noise and he wasn’t. It might seem too obvious if he didn’t let his friend have his lie. 

“You just don’t write a song like that about no one,” Becca was insisting, but Niall had managed to get his arm away from her. 

“Seriously it’s…” Niall trailed off when he glanced up at Zayn, something else shifting into his features. It was gone before Zayn could place it though. It was significant, whatever it was, but before he could ask or press or just sit Niall down to study him more, Niall was getting up from the table. “Just a song. Thank you though. Drinks all around?” Becca nodded, which had Liam saying he was done. Niall turned Zayn, face schooled into something that kept his emotions hidden, pointing at his drink in a silent question. 

“Yeah, sure,” Zayn agreed and Niall turned on his heel to head back to the bar. 

“What was that?” Liam asked, voice low and near Zayn’s ear when Becca got distracted by something on her phone. 

“Nothing.” Zayn smiled a little, not letting Liam see what he was thinking. He had no idea what that was, but he was sure it was something. He was also sure he didn’t feel about the something like he used to. It really should bother him more, but at the moment, the most it had him was mildly curious. Something easily forgotten with another pint or two. 

\-------

“Liam, did you get the…” Becca stopped at the door, eyeing Liam’s empty hands when he and Zayn walked through the door after work, then put her hands on her hips. “Did you not get my text?” 

Liam shot Zayn a bewildered look like Zayn might know the answer to anything that went on in his girlfriend’s head. “Get the what? No. I didn’t get a message.” Just as he said it his phone buzzed and because Liam was Liam he looked at it, then at Becca, then back at the phone again. “Milk? How are we out of milk?” 

“I don’t know, but it’s all gone,” Becca gestured towards the kitchen. “I was hoping you’d get some before you left work!” 

“I just got the message now, Becks! How on earth was I supposed to manage that?” 

“Well…” Becca started, giving Liam the look that got her anything. 

“You want me to go out and get more, don’t you?” 

“Tea is at stake here, Liam. And tea is sacred. It’s like a service for Queen and country.” 

Liam’s face said he could tell that was a joke at least, but he leaned in and kissed her cheek nonetheless. “Fine, fine, fine,” he said grabbing his keys again. “I’ll be back in a few.” 

“I swear we had half a carton this morning,” Zayn commented as he headed for the couch to join Niall, who was midway through a Mario Kart race. He sat close to Niall like always, toeing out of his boots and tucking his toes under Niall’s thigh, which got him a quick smile out of Niall. 

“We did. I watched her pour it out and send him the text when she heard him in the hallway. Devious bitch, that one,” Niall said with a nod towards Becca. 

“Damn right, I am,” Becca agreed, moving in front of the screen and effectively making Niall’s character run clear off the edge of the track. 

“Becks! Move yer arse!” 

“No! I went through all that trouble to get Liam out of here for a reason, you morons,” she insisted, moving in whatever direction Niall did to keep blocking his view until he hit pause. 

“Fine, fine, what do you want?” 

Becca grinned and clapped her hands together, starting to pace in front of them. “Okay, so Liam’s birthday is just a few weeks away, right?” 

Zayn had to do a little mental math on that, but it was right. Apparently the summer had flown by between classes and work and the end of it was quickly closing in on them. “That's right,” he confirmed. 

“Right. So I’m thinking we should throw Liam the biggest, loudest, drop-down craziest of surprise birthday parties. He’ll love it, right?” 

Zayn looked at Niall, then back at Becca. “Are we talking about Liam Payne?” 

Becca threw her hands up in the air. “Who else would we be talking about?” 

“Not the Liam I know? He hates those sort of parties.” 

“What?!” Becca actually put her hand to her chest with how appalled at Zayn she was. “He does not. We go to them all the time. We met at one. Shut up, he’ll love this.” 

Zayn was pretty sure he wouldn’t, but Becca apparently wasn’t hearing it. She was halfway through a lofty guest list and maybe something about a chocolate fountain when Liam’s key turned in the door. “Remember! You can’t tell him.” Becca pointed at both of them giving them stern looks to drive her point across, then she was greeting Liam at the door and dragging him into the kitchen for tea. 

Niall hit start again on his game again and Zayn reached for his bag of crisps to steal one. “Just to be sure,” Niall said, moving with the way he was pushing the joystick on the controller. “We are telling him, right?” 

“We are so telling him.” 

\--------------

To his credit, Liam did a very good job of seeming both surprised and not angry at the fact that Becca had invited everyone they’d ever met to their flat to celebrate Liam’s birthday. It was the exact opposite of how Liam had wanted to spend every birthday prior and he’d looked like he didn’t want to change that this year when Niall and Zayn broke the news. Zayn thought that Liam deserved a medal for not shouting at Becca right that moment, or any other moment in the week leading up to the surprise, and then for going along with it completely and not yelling at her or even giving her a stern talking-to. He supposed that had something to do with being in love and making sacrifices. If Zayn had ever doubted the way Liam felt about Becca, tolerating the party of the summer being thrown in his honor was as good a sign as it got. To make matters worse, the whole thing had almost gotten massively out of hand and the best Zayn could do to reign it in was try and keep her from buying up half of Tesco’s for the snacks or hiring dancers or jugglers or something else ridiculous she’d pitched. 

Sure, the flat was wall to wall people, and yes, Zayn had shooed three couples out of his room to keep them from having sex on his bed, but the party was pretty great. After the shots that Becca had handed him right through the door, Liam was a whole new level of drunk in the middle of people that he seemed surprised wanted to celebrate with him while they sang happy birthday and cheered. When Becca pulled him in for a hard kiss after the song ended, he didn’t even blush, just dragged her in closer by her belt loops and let one hand graze over her arse to lift her up off to ground and closer to him. 

Zayn was pretty sure he should make sure there wasn’t a couple currently having sex in Liam’s bed so that Liam could do that himself later. Despite the fact that he still thought party was a bad idea, it was nice to see his friend enjoying himself, even if he might regret some of the photos that would go up on Facebook later. Zayn laughed as the cheers turned into catcalls over the scene that Liam and Becca were making, and headed down the hall to their rooms. Liam’s had a sign on the door that said ‘Birthday Boy’ which thankfully had kept people out of it most of the night either out of politeness or because they were worried Liam might be in there, though Zayn did peek in just to make sure. The coast appeared to be clear, which was a good sign, and Zayn leaned back out of the room with a grin to himself. 

He was just moving to check on his room when someone grabbed his wrist, dragging him away from that and into the bathroom behind him. Whoever had him didn’t turn on the lights, just shut the door behind them and pushed Zayn back against the counter, crowding in his space while Zayn tried to get his eyes to adjust to the dark. “What the hell?” 

“Shh. Quiet.” The voice was by his ear and the hand that wasn’t still holding his wrist was curled around his hip, gripping it hard. 

Zayn froze, blinking rapidly, trying to see. He knew that voice. He knew it better than his own. He knew those hands. “Ni?” 

“I said shhh.” 

Zayn was desperate to know why, to know what was going on, but then Niall was kissing him and he caught on pretty quick. He tasted more like booze than Niall, though Zayn had watched him kick back shots in a game of quarters half an hour ago which might explain that. His mouth was hot against Zayn’s though, tongue pushing forward and Zayn was letting him deepen the kiss before he fully had a handle the fact that he was being kissed. 

He was being kissed by Niall. 

That was all the realization that Zayn needed.

His free hand twisted in the hair at the back of Niall’s neck, tilting his head to get the perfect angle on the kiss and Niall groaned into it. He finally let go of Zayn’s wrist, but then had Zayn’s hips in both hands, pinning him to the counter and nudging one knee between Zayn’s legs. Niall broke off the kiss to drag his mouth across Zayn’s jaw then down his neck, biting into the soft flesh at Zayn’s collarbone peeking out of his shirt. As Niall worked on a mark there that would be mostly obscured by his tattoos, Niall’s fingers wound up under Zayn’s shirt, pressing into the heart tattoo on his hip like he knew what it meant. 

Zayn bit his lip against a moan, not at all sure what had brought any of this moment on or if he was dreaming about it, but Niall just hushed him again and kept working, this time rutting his hips forward against Zayn’s. He had to cover his mouth with one hand to keep the noise quiet, but his other hand was twisted in Niall’s hair, pulling him back up to kiss him again. He was messing up Niall’s hair, he knew it, but he didn’t care. How many times had he seen his friend with rucked up sex hair and wished it could have been him? If he had a chance, damnit, he was going to make the most of it. 

Niall’s hips canted into Zayn’s again and Zayn answered it this time, chasing that friction like he was fucking fifteen again and could get off on a quick snog and dry humping. Then again it was Niall and four years of foreplay was probably more than any one person could handle anyway. 

And no, it wasn’t how he imagined any of their first anything would be, his hand over his mouth as Niall moved against him, a drunken slur of words that were too soft to understand muffled into his shoulder. It wasn’t supposed to be locked in a bathroom with the lights off. Neither one of them was supposed to have been drinking heavily all evening and he should have been able to see Niall’s face rather than imagine how pink his cheeks were with the exertion and if he smiled when he kissed like he smiled when he did everything else. Zayn’s imagination had made their hypothetical first time far more romantic and caring and this felt like cheating that, but Zayn wasn’t about to stop it just to recreate it later. Second times could be better. 

“Niall! Where the fuck did you go, you Irish bastard!” 

Niall froze at the sound of his name being shouted in the hallway. He stopped kissing Zayn’s neck to look at the door and, just as Zayn went to guide his mouth back to Zayn’s, Niall pulled away completely. “I should…” he started then looked down and adjusted himself in his jeans. Zayn’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, but it was still hard to make out Niall’s face or determine what he was been thinking. Zayn had been aware of what he’d been feeling, especially when it was pressed against his thigh moments before, but now Zayn was worried he’d imagined it. “Yeah. Go. I should go.” Niall didn’t look back as he opened the door a little then left after determining the coast was clear. 

And that was it. Zayn stared at the door for a moment, waiting for something to happen. Niall to burst back in with a laugh and go back to kissing. Ashton Kutcher to show up with video cameras and laugh to say that Zayn fell for it. Something. But nothing happened.

He locked the door and flipped on the lights, groaning at the bright and blinking it away until he could see his reflection. His hair was messed up, his lips kiss-swollen and red. There were tiny bite marks down his neck and pulling his shirt away a little revealed a larger, purpling bruise just under the script on his collarbone. He had to close his eyes for a moment, forcing his mind to catch up with the trail of marks that Niall had left before before looking at the last spot. 

After a deep breath he lifted his shirt, staring at the heart on his hip. It was only tattoo he had for Niall, which was ridiculous considering how many tattoos he had at this point. Niall didn’t know about it, or at least why he had it, but he’d found it anyway. The skin around the black heart was red, fingerprints that were dark enough now that they’d turn to bruises within the hour. It was like Niall had found it and claimed it as his, just so Zayn would know. 

He dropped the hem of his shirt and gripped the counter, feeling his stomach churn and flip like he might be sick. Then the pain was in his chest, taking away his breath and forcing it into a sob that he couldn’t hold back. It should have been a good feeling. Niall wanted him. Niall had kissed him. Niall had almost gotten him off in their dingy bathroom with his back against the counter and his clothes still on. It should have been the greatest feeling ever, but it wasn’t, it was hollow and empty and enough to force tears to Zayn’s eyes. 

Singing started outside the door, Niall and Liam leading everyone on in a slurred but rousing drinking song, and Zayn knew it was the best shot he had to get from the bathroom to his room without getting stopped. It was just a few steps that felt like miles, but once Zayn was behind the locked door to his room he felt better, cut off from the noise he could hear on the other side. Just for good measure he slid his desk chair against the door, then sat on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands. 

He’d been over it. So completely over it. Niall had been weird all summer, acting jealous, writing songs that didn’t make sense, talking about when they were spending all their time together. He’d been close and cuddly and not one iota of it had bothered Zayn. Not one instance had left him floored or overwhelmed. At the most he’d been confused, curious what was up with Niall, but not enough to ask or probe. It was a perfectly built foundation for moving on in his life and it had seemed so sturdy and solid. And one kiss had brought the whole thing tumbling down like a house of cards. 

His breath hitched in another sob and this time Zayn didn’t fight the tears. It was all back, every inch of feeling, of desperation, of _need_ and he was choking on it. He’d thought he wasn’t in love anymore and he’d been so, so wrong. He was desperately in love, probably hadn’t stopped and now he’d had a taste of what it could be then had it ripped away. 

He knew that stolen moment in the bathroom wasn’t a real thing. If it had been, Niall would still be with him. If he had been more than a drunken pull at a party, Niall would have tugged them back into his room to sleep together. Niall wouldn’t have left the moment someone noticed he was missing. Niall would have looked at him. 

Niall hadn’t done any of those things.


	10. Chapter 10

Zayn could feel how puffy his eyes were the moment he opened them, followed by the headache that he knew wasn’t from a hangover. He’d spent most of the night in his room, sobbing as quietly as possible until the early hours of the morning, head buried under his pillow, hoping it was all just some sort of terrible dream. 

All he had to do was reach up to press at the bruise on his collarbone and the sting reminded him that hoping was futile. 

There wasn’t a need to put on anything more than a hoodie that would cover the marks Niall had left behind because he’d slept in his jeans. He was a little wrinkled, but that hardly mattered. It was just the kitchen and, when he got there, he was sure that Liam looked worse. The kettle was going, but Liam was a tint of green with his forehead pressed against the refrigerator. 

“You actually look worse than I feel,” Zayn mumbled, moving around Liam for the coffee. 

“I feel like death,” Liam countered, rolling his head to the side to look at Zayn. “But you do look like shit.” 

Zayn flicked him off, but it was half-hearted at best. He could only imagine what he looked like. “Fucking hangover,” he added so Liam wouldn’t ask. There were no words to explain what he’d let happen. He should have stopped it, but it was fucking Niall and apparently Niall had Zayn’s number no matter how often Zayn insisted otherwise. 

Liam hummed in agreement. “I’m never drinking again.” The kettle chirped as it finished and Liam stumbled to it to pour out two mugs of tea. “Becks is miserable, too,” he added, stopping midsentence to close his eyes before he finished it. 

Zayn made a noise and rubbed at his eyes, wincing at how terrible they felt. He had to have slept on sandpaper and there wasn’t an ounce of water left his in system to even wet them so he could blink. He’d cried himself dry. “Ni?” He hadn’t wanted to ask, he shouldn’t have asked, but Niall was there, filling every pore of Zayn’s existence. He had to ask. 

“He was here when I went to bed, but his room looks like it did last night. And he doesn’t appear to be anywhere, ” Liam explained slowly with half a shrug. Zayn frowned, not sure what that meant. “End of the party pull, maybe? Who knows.” 

The thought of Niall pulling someone else after having tried to get off with Zayn in the bathroom made Zayn feel sick. It made what had happened even less valid than it had been, something worth ignoring for the next best thing. Hell, Zayn had primed the pump for whoever she was and made it easy. He wasn’t just feeling sick, he was going to be sick and he already he was stumbling towards the bathroom with Liam calling after him. 

There wasn’t much in his stomach to bring up, but that didn’t stop the dry heaves that followed, as if the mere thought of Niall with someone else brought violent reactions from Zayn’s body. Thankfully they’d subsided by the time Liam got there, kneeling with Zayn to brush his hair back and press a cool, wet flannel to his forehead. “You okay, Zee?” 

That was a lot coming from a sick-feeling Liam and Zayn felt terribly selfish, but he leaned into his best friend’s touch, nodding slowly. “Yeah, hangover,” he repeated, but when he opened his eyes he could tell Liam didn’t believe him. Liam looked like he was going to ask, but Zayn moved away before he could. “Go. M’alright. Promise.” It was a terrible lie, but if he didn’t give in to Liam’s attention, maybe Liam would believe him. He’d believed him before. 

Liam clearly hesitated before sighing and getting up. “Don’t stay in here all day, it’s gross. Try and eat something small and lay down again, okay?” 

Zayn nodded, giving Liam a thumbs up because he didn’t trust himself to say anything without spilling every second of what had happened between himself and Niall in great detail and demanding that Liam fix his broken heart. That wasn’t Liam’s job. He could fix a lot of things, but not that. 

\-------

Zayn expected for everything with Niall to change, but it didn’t. Niall was still there, leaning into Zayn, arm around his shoulders, arm around his waist, all of that, even if he didn’t seem as quick to share a bed as he had in the past. He was still there though, crawling in after Zayn fell asleep and looping an arm around him from behind, but more than once he was gone before Zayn woke up, leaving Zayn wondering if he’d dreamed it or not.

Zayn had thought they’d talk about it. It would come up with a laugh and a blush and they could shake it off and move on, or maybe even make something of it, but it didn’t. It took two weeks before Zayn realized it wasn’t going to happen. In Zayn’s mind that meant one of two things: Niall regretted it or Niall didn’t remember. 

The second seemed the more likely, but it was painful to think that Zayn had the memory and all of his feelings back while Niall had nothing. The first was too gut-wrenching to deal with and Zayn took the fact that Niall hadn’t put space between them as a sign that he just didn’t remember. It was much easier to believe that than go down the path that Niall regretted the stolen moment. That hurt just as much as it had the night it happened. It didn’t stop Niall from looping his arm around Zayn’s shoulders at the Student Union bar, smiling at the guys from Zayn’s art studio he was talking to before leaning in to whisper in Zayn’s ear. 

“Seen Li yet?” 

Zayn frowned, turning his head to look at Niall, then around the bar. “No, not yet actually. Was he supposed to be here by now?” Zayn fished in his pocket for his phone, checking time. 

“Half an hour ago at least,” Niall mused, arm warm around Zayn’s shoulders, fingers idly tapping Zayn’s chest. 

“You text him?” 

“Yah, said he was running late, but it’s Liam. He’s never late.” 

Zayn hummed to himself softly for a moment. “But Becks is always late. Maybe he was waiting on her?” 

“True, but he usually says that. You know Li, doesn’t want us think for a moment that he’s the one making them late.” 

“Their relationship is so weird.” Zayn turned a little in Niall’s arm so he could see his face. “What are you thinking?” 

“That we should check on him. Ridiculous given he’s a grown ass man and more responsible than any of us, but…” 

“But it’s Liam.” 

Niall nodded. “Pretty much. Does that make me a sap?” 

Zayn laughed and squished Niall’s cheeks with one hand. “Yes, but it’s okay. You’re a cute sap.” 

“So’re you,” Niall countered, flushing slightly but not batting Zayn’s hand away. “Wanna come?” 

“Of course I do. Lead the way.” Niall slipped his arm from Zayn’s shoulder, but still grabbed his hand as they left the bar, holding on to one another. Zayn felt his heart flutter as people looked at them, probably wondering just where they were off to and what they were. Probably making all the wrong assumptions. It wasn’t enough to let go of Niall’s hand though, no matter the image it portrayed. He was probably starting down another year of uni single, being so obviously Niall’s in public in the first few weeks of term, but after the incident he’d rather be mistaken for Niall’s boyfriend and not be than be someone else’s. 

Once they were out of the bar and headed towards their flat, Niall wrapped his arm around Zayn’s waist keeping him close while they walked. There wasn’t a reason for it really, too early in the term to be cold enough to need to stay close, but Niall did it anyway and Zayn didn’t fight it. Silence stretched between them and Zayn knew what he should be saying. He’d been in the same moment more than once in the weeks that had passed since Liam’s birthday party, Niall close in the quiet, them alone, an open opportunity for Zayn to ask about what had happened, to find out if Niall remembered or meant to kiss Zayn like he had. Every time the opportunity was there though, Zayn didn’t say anything. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. This time he wrapped his arm around Niall’s shoulders, leaning in to press his nose against Niall’s temple, which just got a bright smile out of his best friend. 

Zayn knew he was just torturing himself, but that smile was too pretty to run the risk of losing it. The constant feeling of agony was worth it for that smile. 

Niall slowed them outside of the flat, leaning against the door for a moment before pulling Zayn so he could hear too. Liam was definitely on the other side, voice loud so it carried, but it had the terse tone he only used when he was clearly very frustrated and it only ever came out with Becca. “No, I didn’t say I was mad at you! I’m shocked! Shocked is a perfectly reasonable thing to feel!” Zayn raised his eyebrow at Niall who shrugged. 

“She get sacked again?” Niall whispered. Becca had gone through three jobs over the summer and started a fourth at the beginning of the term as well as re-sitting some her classes from the previous year. All of it had made things tense between the couple, but they hadn’t really been suffering with it since fall term started. 

“Maybe.” Zayn looked at the door then Niall. “Do we go in?” 

There was a wordless shout and the sound of something smashing. Niall nodded. “Yes. Definitely. Open up.” Zayn already had his keys out, letting them into the flat, hearing the voices coming from the kitchen. He pulled Niall that way, finding Liam on the ground picking up shards of glass and Becca leaning against the counter crying. 

“Everything alright?” Zayn asked, and must have scared Liam enough that his friend lost track of what he was doing and cut his hand on the broken glass. 

Liam swore, which was still rare, and got up to rinse his hand off. “Fine, we’re fine.” Niall had already drifted towards Becca, touching her shoulder to see if she was, but she shrugged him away. 

“We’re fine,” Becca echoed, but when she looked up and spotted Liam’s hand and the blood she went a little green. “I have to…” She pushed Niall away and left the room, shutting the bathroom door behind her. Niall pointed at her, asking the silent question, which just got a head shake out of Liam as he pressed a paper towel against his hand. 

“She’s not feeling well. I thought you were out?” Liam asked, and Zayn went under the kitchen sink for the first aid kit that Liam kept there. There was one in the bathroom too because Liam had a habit of being a Boy Scout at all times. 

“We were, but you were supposed to be out with us,” Niall explained, going to clean up the glass that Liam had abandoned. “We were worried when you didn’t show up.” 

“Becca didn’t feel well. I was going to text you, but…” Liam trailed off as Zayn moved the paper towel away to look at the cut on his palm. 

“But you two started fighting?” he suggested before wiping the cut down with antiseptic. It wasn’t that deep, but Liam still flinched at the sting. 

“We weren’t-”

“Liam.” Niall looked up from dumping the last of the glass in the bin. “Seriously?” 

Liam sighed and shook his head. “I promise it’s fine. We just couldn’t agree on something. And she wasn’t feeling well and I knew we were supposed to be meeting you.” Liam looked at Zayn and, even though Zayn knew he was lying, the pleading look his best friend was giving him was reason enough to not ask more. 

“Yeah okay, Li,” Zayn said softly, putting a bandage on the cut. “We were just worried about you.” 

Becca’s voice came from around the bathroom, a soft cry of his name and Liam moved away from Zayn. “I’m gonna go take care of her. You two should go. Have fun.” He gave them a weak smile before leaving the kitchen.

Niall waited until Liam was gone, then moved closer to Zayn. “Let him off easy, didn’t you?” 

Zayn shrugged as he cleaned up the kit, but left it on the counter. “He doesn’t want to talk about it. Sometimes you can’t push. He’ll come out with it eventually.” 

“True that,” Niall agreed. He tapped his fingers on the counter near Zayn, looking up at him under his lashes which was too adorable. “So, you wanna go out again?” His tapping fingers moved closer to Zayn’s hip, brushing against the fabric of Zayn’s shirt. 

“Instead of?” Zayn was surprised the words came out steady and not breathy. 

Niall shrugged a little, then leaned in closer. “Couple of beers and movie in your room?” He looked stupidly hopeful for it and Zayn had to nod, leaning in without meaning to. 

“I think that works just fine. Iron Man?” 

“I pick the movie,” Niall insisted, rolling his eyes. “Nothing you watch with Liam. You get the beers and I’ll get snacks?” 

Zayn chuckled, but it cut off a little bit as Niall’s fingers grazed his hip. “Yeah, okay.” 

Niall grinned, then squeezed Zayn’s side quickly before ducking away to raid cabinets. It took a moment to catch his breath, but Zayn did his best to cover it with getting beers from the fridge before heading into his room. He had a moment to get himself situated on his bed before Niall was there, dumping snacks near Zayn’s feet and bouncing around to set up the movie. Then he was crawling back up to Zayn settling in close enough for Zayn to tangle their legs a little and keep his toes under Niall’s warmth. By the time the movie started, they were properly cuddling and Zayn forced himself not to think too much of it. It just was. It didn’t matter that the light weight of Niall against him reminded him of the bathroom. Thinking of that was just going to get his dick interested in everything and that would be uncomfortable for both of them. He reached up to brush his fingers through Niall’s hair, enough for Niall to look back at him. “You okay?” 

Zayn forced his best smile, nodding. “Great.” 

Because really, it could be worse. 

\-------

“You okay?” Liam asked making Zayn look up from his cup of coffee. 

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been stirring that cup for three minutes staring out the window. I timed you.” 

Zayn pursed his lips, looking down at the mug and removed the spoon slowly. “I...guess I am.” 

“You almost stirred through the mug. That doesn’t really scream okay.” Liam’s forehead creased in concern and it was enough to make Zayn relent slightly.

He peered out the kitchen then looked back at Liam. “It’s…Ni.” 

Liam’s eyes went wide and his mouth opened twice without any words coming out of it. “I thought…” was all he could manage when he did find his voice again. 

“I know! I thought so too, but…” Zayn hesitated, not sure if it was fair to tell Liam when he hadn’t even talked to Niall about it, but after so long, could he even bring it up with Niall? Wasn’t it too far past that point? He was pretty sure there was date at which bringing up that they’d drunkenly snogged in the bathroom wasn’t relevant any more and had to be saved for reunions much further down the line. Zayn was also pretty sure he had let that date slide by in his fear of dealing with it. 

“But what? What changed?”

“Well…” Zayn struggled with the words for a moment more. “We kind of-” 

Liam’s phone buzzed and he snatched at it, like he’d been waiting for it to beep for over an hour now. He stared at it for a moment, then swore softly, running his hair through his hair. 

“Everything okay?” Zayn drifted closer, confession forgotten, trying to see the screen on Liam’s phone, but Liam locked it and tucked it into his pocket. 

“Yeah, it’s fine, just news I was waiting on. Tell me about…” Liam trailed off as Niall came into the kitchen, yawning and scratching his chest and heading straight for the coffee pot. 

“Tell him about what?” 

“The noises you make in your sleep,” Zayn supplied before Liam could trip on his words, but Liam had already gone back to his phone, typing out a message. “Li, seriously, what’s up?” 

Liam looked up, surprised at being addressed and shook his head. “Nothing. Just a thing I gotta take care of for class I forgot about. I’m gonna…” He nodded over his shoulder, then left the kitchen. 

Niall watched Liam go, then turned back to making his coffee. “So, he’s lying.” 

“Yeah,” Zayn agreed. Liam was still the worst liar ever. 

“What about, you think?” 

Zayn shrugged. “Dunno. He’s been acting a bit odd lately, hasn’t he? Since we walked in on that fight with Becca. Have you noticed?” 

Niall laughed and sipped at his coffee. “He asked me the exact same thing ‘bout you yesterday.” 

“What’d you tell him?” Zayn asked, shocked that Liam would ask. 

“That you’re always weird, but nothing new.” Niall grinned around the mug and Zayn rolled his eyes. “But Liam, he’s being weird. Different weird.” 

“Think we should ask?” 

“Yeah. Yeah we should. What day is it?”

“Tuesday,” Zayn said after thinking about it for a moment, getting a nod out of Niall. “Which’ll work.” As weird as Liam was being, he was consistent no matter what and Tuesday evenings he usually was at their place working on homework while Becca worked the closing shift at the shop. “You free tonight?” 

Niall chewed on his lower lip while he thought about that then nodded. “After seven?” 

“Yeah, that’ll work. He’s usually here until after eight at least. Get a takeaway and we’ll stage an intervention?” 

“Works for me.” 

Zayn nodded, finishing off his coffee and dumping the mug in the sink. They hadn’t gotten good at cleaning up after themselves, but Liam appreciated that they got the mugs in the sink and not on the counters. “See you then.” He smiled at Niall, feeling like he should do more, but people didn’t kiss their best friends goodbye no matter how much they wanted to. 

\-----------

Niall texted to say he was on his way back with food and Zayn left his sketchbook on the coffee table to go find Liam. He knocked on the door then stuck his head in, watching Liam slam his laptop like Zayn had walked in on him watching porn. 

“I interrupt something?” Zayn asked nodding towards the shut laptop. 

“What? No.” Liam shook his head, which just had Zayn raising an eyebrow until Liam realized that he’d meant. “Oh. No! God no! I have a girlfriend.” 

Zayn chuckled and pushed the door open more. “Like that’s ever stopped anyone ever.” 

“Seriously? You’d do that if you were with someone?” 

“Let me correct that. Like that’s stopped anyone that wasn’t you.” Of course Liam wouldn’t. “Niall’s gonna be here with dinner in a few. Come and eat.” 

Liam looked back at the laptop, not even blushing or reacting to the way Zayn teased him. “I’ve got work to do.” 

“You’ve also go to eat dinner.” 

“Niall can have mine.” 

“No, he can’t. He’s stopping at his favorite place. He’ll order himself two meals anyway. You need to eat. Come on, Li.” 

Liam stalled again, but finally gave in, setting his laptop away and getting up to join Zayn just as Niall burst through the front door. “Oh good. You’re ready. Because I am so starving I almost stopped on the way home and ate all of your food,” he said with a bright grin dropping everything on the coffee table. Liam stopped in the kitchen for plates, one for himself and one for Zayn because he’d finally accepted that Niall wouldn’t use one.

By the time they sat down, Niall already had food setting two containers in front of himself and two between Liam and Zayn, knowing how they liked to share what they got, half to each. Liam took the couch, Niall the chair next to it and Zayn sat on the floor in front of them with his feet tucked under him. Food was sorted out and they tucked in, sitting in silence for five minutes before Liam set his plate down. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Huh?” Niall asked with his mouth still full, pausing to swallow. “What makes you say that?” 

“You didn’t go to your favorite take-away, you went to mine,” Liam pointed out and Zayn realized he was right. Niall had gone an extra few blocks over to get Liam’s favorite, which just made Zayn love him more. He wasn’t always good at showing his feelings, but he was great at expressing them when it came to food. “And you’re both staring at me like I’m going to break down and start confessing things.” 

“Is it working?” Niall asked, twirling his fork in his food.

Liam shrugged. “Maybe.” 

“We’re worried about you, Li,” Zayn added. “That’s what this is about. Not that you might break, but that you might need someone to talk to.” 

There was a moment where the only noise was Niall eating while Liam looked at his hands. Zayn kept his eyes trained on his friend, not taking them away for a second. Liam reached up and rubbed his hands over his face, covering his mouth for a moment while he looked at Zayn, eyes searching for something in Zayn’s before he spoke. “Becks is pregnant.” 

Niall’s food landed on the floor with a sickening plop, his fork clattering next to it and Zayn was relieved he wasn’t holding anything or it would have wound up in his lap. “Your Becks?” Niall asked. 

Liam gave Niall a look, but nodded anyway. 

“Yours?” Zayn ventured, not wanting to, but not feeling right not asking. 

“Who else’s could it be?” Liam demanded and Zayn shook his head. 

“No one. Just...it’s you. I can’t see you being reckless.” 

“It was the night of my birthday. We all were a little…” Liam waved between the three of them as if he couldn’t come up with the right word, but they’d all definitely been something. “Weren’t we? You wandered off halfway through it,” Liam said, pointing at Zayn who froze. It had been late enough in the party that he hadn’t thought anyone would notice and no one had mentioned it since then, so he’d gone on believing he’d been discrete. He didn’t want to, but he had to look at Niall, had to. Everything he’d been wondering for ages hinged on what kind of reaction Niall had. When Zayn cut his eyes that way, Niall was intently looking at his food he’d reclaimed from the floor, but there was an edge of a blush on his cheeks.”You woke up on Bressie’s couch,” Liam added, pointing to Niall who winced, but nodded. “I had unsafe sex with Becca without thinking about consequences.” 

Niall woke up where? Zayn wanted to stop the conversation and demand why Niall was blushing if he wound up Bressie’s. He wanted to stand up and insist that someone tell him answers. Why he’d wound up there in the first place? Did he leave because of what happened with them? Did he know? Did he remember? How much did the past month and a half change if Niall remembered? 

Was he waiting on Zayn to do something? 

He was half a breath from asking when Niall spoke up again, talking to Liam. “What’re you gonna do?” 

It was nearly impossible for Zayn to bring his thoughts back to the matter at hand, not when he was desperate to know what Niall was thinking, what had happened that night, but Liam needed them right now. Liam had gotten his girlfriend pregnant and was sitting on their stained and ratty couch trying to talk like a proper adult about the whole thing when really he sounded like he was quoting a pamphlet handed out freshers year about safe sex. That was a much bigger deal than his and Niall’s almost hook up. Zayn eyed Niall again as he if might be able to read something in a sideways glance, but Liam’s answer to Niall’s question pulled his eyes back to Liam. “We’re gonna have a baby.” 

“Seriously?” Niall set his food down this time instead of dropping it, but he still did that a little harder than necessary. 

“Yes, seriously.” Liam looked between Zayn and Niall then shook his head. “I want this. I do! I’ve always wanted this, more than anything else. I know you want to sing and you want to paint, but I’ve wanted a family. I want a job I like and a family. I’m getting it, just a little early. It’s not a bad thing.” 

“Well, no one said it was a bad thing, Liam,” Zayn clarified, biting at his lip. “We just...We want you to be sure.” 

“When is anyone sure?” Liam asked, looking at both of them, but neither Zayn or Niall had an answer for that. “Exactly. No one is. I have read everything about this and every mum-to-be blog out there says that you’re never really ready and that it’s a blessing no matter how surprising it is. I know it was a mistake, but I want to do the right thing. I want to be with her.” He paused for a moment then got up, leaving them staring after him. 

“That is not what I thought was going on,” Niall whispered loudly, pointing at where Liam had been sitting. 

“You think it’s what I thought was going on? I’m as surprised as you are. I thought they were fighting or she’d gotten sacked or failed her classes again. Not a baby.” 

“What are we gonna do?” 

“What can we do?” Zayn heard his voice squeak up with the loud whisper. “He’s got a _plan_. He’s been reading mum-to-be blogs! Have you ever been able to talk Liam out of something he’s set his mind to like that?” 

Niall opened his mouth, but obviously couldn’t come up with anything and sat back, twisting his hair between his fingers. 

Liam came back a moment later and handed a black velvet box to Zayn. “I got that this afternoon,” he explained. “When she texted to say the doctor confirmed it and we’re having a baby in May.” 

Zayn looked at the box, opening it to reveal a little ring there. Niall moved off his chair to sit with Zayn, looking over his shoulder. The stone was blue, a pretty sparkling thing in a nice setting. 

“It’s not that nice,” Liam continued, reaching out for the box when Zayn handed it back. “I can’t afford a diamond or anything, but I thought… I want to do the right thing.” 

“You’re going to propose,” Zayn finished, watching Liam nod. 

“What do you think?” Liam looked at both of them, waiting, and Zayn felt Niall’s hand slip around his waist, holding on and silently giving Zayn permission to talk for both of them. Zayn took a moment to put the right words together before speaking. 

“I think she’s lucky to have you. That not many guys would do what you’re doing and it’s what makes you a great guy.” Niall squeezed his side in affirmation and Zayn watched Liam nod. “And you’re probably the most suited to be a dad of the lot of us,” Zayn added, just so Liam didn’t doubt that either. He was probably too young and Zayn was just as upset about it as Niall was, but if any of them could handle it, it would be Liam. 

That seemed to be enough for Liam to set down the ring and go back to eating. “I was going to ask her tomorrow.” 

Niall went back to his food as well, but slid it around so he could stay sitting with Zayn, still mostly eating with one hand. Zayn could tell Liam noticed, but thankfully didn’t say anything else. “You have a plan?” Niall asked between bites, knee bouncing against Zayn’s lightly to the neverending beat that ran through the blonde’s head. 

Liam paused mid-bite to stare at Niall. “A plan?” 

“Yeah, like what are you going to do to ask? You gotta do something romantic.” 

The pained look on Liam’s face said he hadn’t thought through that far. “I thought you were the romantic, Li,” Zayn teased lightly. 

“You two are the artists here. I hadn’t thought of anything romantic” Liam’s face shifted to his thinking face which almost immediately shifted to his pained look. “Okay, so what should I do?” 

Niall laughed and leaned into Zayn more. “Not sure, but I think between the three of us we can come up with something.” 

\-------------

“Are you crying?” Niall whispered, nudging Zayn’s shoulder as Zayn tried to wipe his eyes discreetly. It was probably silly to get teared up at a courthouse wedding that had been so rushed, Liam and Becca’s parents hadn’t even had time to come down for it, but Becca was a mess because she was pregnant and Liam was all teared up himself, promising to love her forever and taking care of her and the baby for as long as he lived. Becca looked stunning, still early enough in the pregnancy that nothing showed in her little white dress and Liam looked stupidly dashing in his suit. Zayn was holding a tiny bouquet of paper flower’s he’d made for Becca and he and Niall were in their suits as well and standing as witnesses for the whole thing. 

“Shut up, it’s sweet.” 

Niall giggled into his shoulder, smiling up at him for a moment before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You’re my favorite sap.” 

“Shut up,” Zayn repeated, blushing more. “You’re supposed to be taking pictures.” Niall laughed and held up the camera he’d borrowed snapping a few pictures as Liam kissed his bride and Zayn cheered. 

The happy couple signed the last of the paper work and marriage certificate in hand, headed back to the flat that Zayn and Niall had decorated with white crepe paper and balloons. They’d bought a few cheap bottles of champagne and a bottle of sparkling grape juice for Becca and spent the evening toasting the happy couple and having them pose for pictures. When their kisses started to linger, Niall tugged at Zayn’s arm, pulling him towards the door, sure Liam hadn’t even seen them leave. 

Wrapped up in a coats against the late fall chill with a mostly full bottle of champagne passed between them, he and Niall walked towards the park nearby to give the newlyweds some time alone. “What made you tear up back there?” Niall asked, reaching for the bottle so his fingers grazed Zayn’s. 

“Like I said. It was sweet.” He shrugged a little, looking over at Niall. Part of him wanted to ask still, about the things that had happened, but all of it seemed so silly in comparison to what was going on with Liam and Becca. There was a sonogram photo on their refrigerator, right next to Liam’s rules, and Zayn had a feeling it was just the first of many. What was one snog that hadn’t affected their friendship in comparison to the baby? To Liam being married? 

“It was, but it’s not what I thought for Liam. I was worried that was what made you sad.” Niall sounded like it made him sad. 

“I know. Me either, but he seemed so happy today, I couldn’t help but be happy for him.” Zayn had always thought Liam would be more than a father before he got out of college, but the more Liam adjusted to the news, the more it seemed to suit him. Maybe he’d been right in saying that it was all he wanted in the first place.

Niall turned into the park and Zayn followed. “He did seem happy. Which is all I’d ever want for Liam anyway. You know he’s looking at flats, right?” 

Zayn nodded. Liam had mentioned it to him as well, that he was looking for somewhere for himself, Becca, and the baby. “I think we’ve got until closer to when the baby comes for that.” 

“I told him just to let me know where they get a place. That we could get one there too. Or nearby. In case they need us.” 

“We?” Zayn was hung up on that word even though the rest of what Niall said made complete sense. Of course they’d be near Liam and Becca’s new flat, just in case, but something about the ‘we’ meaning the two of them was giving Zayn pause. It hadn’t been the two of them since Liam had been there first day of uni. 

“Yeah, us,” Niall said, looking at Zayn. “Unless you don’t want to be my roommate anymore.” It would normally be teasing. That was the sort of joke that Niall made. Half self-deprecating, but always with an air of not caring. It wasn’t a joke now though. Niall sounded serious. 

“Of course I want to,” Zayn insisted reaching for Niall’s hand, twining their fingers together, not wanting Niall to think for a moment that wasn’t the case. Who else would he live with? “Of course I do.” 

Niall stayed quiet, still holding on to Zayn’s hand until he was pulling him a little closer. “But...things…” 

Zayn’s breath caught in his throat at what Niall might mean by that, what he might be caught up on, what might have fueled his concern that Zayn would have second thoughts about them living together. He squeezed Niall’s hand, to let him know that Zayn was there and it was okay to talk. When Niall looked up though, he looked crushed, spark gone from his bright blue eyes. “Hey, hey, things are fine, Ni.” He shouldn’t have said it. He should have waited for Niall to admit what was going on, to see if it was the same thing the same thing that Zayn was getting hung up on, but Zayn couldn’t. Not with Niall looking like that. If something happened between them, Zayn wanted it to be the best thing that ever happened to either one of them. He didn’t want Niall to doubt it or himself, he didn’t want to feel used or thrown away or forgotten afterward. Zayn had romanticized the notion, yes, but at the same time, he was sure he and his best friend, the love of his life, deserved better. 

“But-” 

“No but.” Zayn stopped walking, pulling on Niall’s arm so he’d look at him. “There’s nothing in the world that would make me not want to be your best friend, to live with you any of that. Whatever you’re worried about, you don’t need to be. We’re fine, right? Nothing’s different as far as I can tell. We’re still us, just like we always have been, right?” 

Niall hesitated, his fingers tightening around Zayn’s almost painfully, but he nodded anyway. “Right.” 

“Then everything is fine. I promise.” He moved closer, wrapping his arm around Niall’s shoulders to hug him close, relieved when Niall hugged him back, one arm tight around his waist, the other pinned between them because he was still holding Zayn’s hand for dear life. He buried his face in Zayn’s shoulder and Zayn twisted his fingers in Niall’s hair, humming softly near his temple. 

“Me too. I promise too.” Niall’s voice cracked slightly, but Zayn just hugged him tighter. It was ironic the way they’d come from listening to Liam and Becca make promises and being so worried about their friend, to making their own. There wasn’t a huge difference between what Liam had said in his wedding vows to what Zayn had just told Niall. Zayn didn’t want to box himself in with it, but was what they had even that different? Didn’t he want the same thing from Niall, to always be there and be his in some way? Zayn wasn’t sure he could even justify being upset with Liam for taking that leap considering he was doing the same for his best friend. 

The hug lasted longer than it needed to, but Zayn let Niall decide when to pull back, not wanting to push him and upset him. Niall didn’t do sad really, so that the moment didn’t last as long as it might have with someone else was fine, especially when Niall kept hold of Zayn’s hand, taking another swig for the champagne bottle they’d managed to not to drop. He pulled Zayn forward, getting them walking again, deeper into the park. 

“Figure we give ‘um a couple hours?” Niall said after a short while, never as good at the silence as Zayn and Liam were, but his voice sounded steadier than it had moments before. 

“Sounds fair.” Zayn bumped his shoulder into Niall’s, ducking his head so he was smiling up at him, which thankfully made Niall smile back at him. Niall darted forward, mouth landing on whatever part of Zayn was the closest Zayn supposed, but just because the kiss was to his eyebrow rather than his temple or forehead didn’t make it any less special.


	11. Chapter 11

Niall brought another round of beers, handing one to Zayn when he turned around. Once he had a free hand, Niall was reaching to brush at a swipe of paint on Zayn’s cheek with a soft smile, just for Zayn, before taking one to Liam. Zayn watched him for a moment then turned to go back to his work. 

“I can’t drink, Niall,” Liam insisted, though he took the beer from Niall anyway.

“Why?” Niall asked and Zayn looked over his shoulder from where he was painting a mural on the wall of the nursery for Liam’s baby girl that was coming in the next few weeks. 

“Because we haven’t gotten any of this furniture put together yet!” Liam set down the wrench that came with any IKEA kit with a little more fury than necessary and took a pull off the beer.

Niall laughed and grabbed the instructions sheet then the pieces he needed. “That would be why you need the beer.” 

“I want it all to be perfect,” Liam said softly, as close to a whine as he got and it was enough for Zayn to set down his paint brush and go over to his friend, wrapping an arm around him from behind. 

“It’ll be perfect,” Zayn promised. “She’ll have the best room there is and be the envy of every little girl in Manchester.” 

Niall snorted. “Probably most of the boys too. Not everyone has an uncle who’ll paint entire walls of fantasies and fairy tales and another uncle who will let her dad boss him around a little bit while putting together her cot, right?” 

Liam sighed back into Zayn’s arms, nodding. “I just wanted to get it done so Becca can see it too…” 

Zayn squeezed Liam harder, nodding against his shoulder. “We know. And we will. Deep breath.” 

It was clear how much Liam needed the reassurance, taking a long breath after Zayn instructed, but it seemed to help. He took another sip of his beer then went back to work, reaching for the pieces to help with putting together the cot. When Liam looked away, Niall caught Zayn’s eye over Liam’s shoulder and Zayn gave his best friend a thumbs up. 

Things hadn’t exactly been easy since the fall, so Zayn got why Liam was so caught up in trying to make the little things in his control perfect. Life with a pregnant Becca had turned out to be even more unpredictable than life with Becca had been before. No one had said that out loud because they were pretty sure that wasn’t a thing you told a pregnant woman, but her mood swings were off the charts and it was enough to wear all of them down, Liam especially. 

It didn’t help that Liam was busy working two jobs and still in school, which meant he was barely sleeping and what spare time he did have he was spending babyproofing the flat he’d rented with her. He had dark circles under his eyes, but at the same time he seemed thrilled at the idea of being a parent. Zayn had had his doubts, but Liam’s enthusiasm was palpable and it had turned Zayn and Niall’s attitude towards the whole thing around, even if they couldn’t get into cabinets in the kitchen. 

Becca, on the other hand, was not as enthused. 

While Liam had read and studied everything he could to prepare and added an app on his phone that updated him on the size comparison of the baby, usually to some sort of food, Becca typically rolled her eyes or begged Liam to stop talking about it. Her moods were so varied that Zayn had started to avoid being around her, usually finding something he had to be at when she came back from classes or suggesting Liam head down two floors to the flat Zayn shared with Niall if he needed anything. Zayn felt terrible about it until he realized Liam seemed to enjoy the breaks from his wife, something he’d never admit to, but he did linger when he knew he wouldn’t be missed. 

Nonetheless, Liam was true to himself and determined to make everything perfect. Two hours and another round of beer later, Liam and Niall put the finishing touches on the last dresser and Zayn finished up the last of the mural he was working on. It still had to dry, but the room looked like a proper nursery, with a cot, a changing table, and a rocking chair that Liam’s mother had given him. It was slightly cramped, but Liam looked happy enough to cry, wrapping an arm around Zayn and Niall each to pull them into a hug. Zayn felt more like he was holding his friend up, but he was sure that was why he was there, so he didn’t mind. 

The front door to the flat slammed and Liam jumped, pulling away from the hug and heading for Becca, grin on his face. “Becks! We’ve got the room ready! Finished just in time.” 

Zayn followed Liam, Niall on his heels, but he stopped when Becca answered. 

“Don’t give a shit about the room, Liam,” she half growled and Zayn winced. “Don’t give a shit about this baby or any of it.” 

Niall was there before Zayn even started reaching for him, one hand around Zayn, pulling him closer because neither of them could go to Liam like that. It was what they’d done since Becca had started getting crazy, leaning on one another because they couldn’t do the same for Liam. 

“Ni and Zee are here, Becks,” Liam told her softly, but he still followed her to the couch she’d dropped on, shifting to find a comfortable position. She was clearly pregnant at this point, almost full term, but still as adorable as ever. He moved her so she could rest her head in his lap and that seemed to calm her, forever giving Zayn faith in the two of them as a unit not matter how often he worried that Becca wasn’t coping.

“Don’t give a fuck. I can’t deal with the baby shit right now, Li.” 

Liam looked pained, but he nodded, brushing at her hair to try and soothe her. It seemed to calm the anger, but tears came in the wake of that and Zayn felt Niall grip his side harder when Becca started sobbing. Niall seemed to take that the hardest, not able to handle her crying even if half the time it was just hormones and not her really being upset. 

“I can’t finish school,” she explained in tears. “I’m too fucking pregnant and this stupid baby is supposed to come before finals and they made me sit with the advisor and she suggested I take incompletes due to my ‘condition’,” Becca rambled in between sobs. 

Liam leaned back on the couch with a sigh and Zayn reached for Niall’s hand. That was the whole point of Liam going through two jobs and working his ass off this semester, so Becca could focus on school. It took Liam a moment, but he pulled himself together then ran his fingers through Becca’s hair again. “It’s fine, baby. Incompletes we can handle. At least you aren’t failing.” 

“I’ll have to resit the whole course! It’s essentially the same!” 

“Did they say that?” Zayn asked, pushing forward a step. “Because maybe they’ll just let you take the finals after the baby comes.” 

Becca stopped short looking up at Zayn for a moment before her eyes narrowed as if she’d just realized he was there and wasn’t happy about it. “How does that help me?” 

Zayn took a step back, not used to being the target of Becca’s ire. Damn if she wasn’t slightly terrifying. “Just thinking you wouldn’t have to resit the classes, that’s all,” he murmured. 

“He’s got a good point, Becks,” Liam supplied. “Did you ask? What did they say?” 

“They said my life is over, Liam!” Becca shouted, getting up awkwardly from the couch and throwing a pillow at Liam. “That’s what they said. And now I’m going to go nap because I’m fucking tired all the time and I can’t deal with this shit right now!” She stormed away and slammed the door to their room shut. 

The moment she was behind closed doors Zayn was at Liam’s side, reaching for his friend, but Liam didn’t give into the hug like Zayn expected. He just sat there, elbows on his knees, face in his hands, not looking up even when Zayn rubbed his back. “I ruined her life,” he finally whispered, looking up at Zayn. “Ruined it. I was so...careless and stupid and-” 

“Hush,” Niall insisted, sitting on the coffee table across from Liam. “You didn’t. She’s having a bad day.”

“And it takes two people.” Zayn added. “You didn’t do anything. You love her more than anyone or anything. This is not on you.” 

Liam didn’t nod like Zayn wanted him to and Zayn was worried he didn’t hear them. “You two should probably go. I’ll make dinner and hopefully she’ll feel better and I can show her the room later.” 

“You sure?” Zayn asked, but Liam got up, stepping away from both of them. 

“Yeah, m’fine,” Liam said, but he didn’t sound very convincing. “Thank you. For the room and your help. It looks wonderful.” He smiled at them, but it didn’t go to his eyes. 

Zayn was ready to stage a protest, a sit in on the couch, not leaving until Liam smiled properly, but Niall had his hand and was pulling him up off the couch before Zayn could explain his plan. “You’ll call us, right mate?” Niall asked. “Anything you need or she needs. We’re here.” 

Liam nodded, but still held the door open for them and Niall guided Zayn out of it and down the hall. “Ni, we shouldn’t,” Zayn started, wanting to go back, but before he could, Niall had his arms around Zayn, holding him close. 

“Don’t ever let us be like that, okay?” Niall’s voice was barely more than whisper, something near Zayn’s neck because Zayn could feel Niall’s breath against his skin. 

“No, babe, never,” Zayn said without thinking about it. Never would he let things get like that between himself and Niall, regardless of the fact that they weren’t a couple. Honestly though, they were almost as much a couple as Becca and Liam, spending the whole year perpetually single, but always together, still with no sense of boundaries between them. It was the sort of thing that should have bothered Zayn, but he’d gotten used to it. He enjoyed it. He loved being this close to Niall and not having to vie with someone else for Niall’s undivided attention. 

When Niall pulled back he didn’t go far, and Zayn touched his chin lightly. “Don’t worry. Love you, you know that right?” 

Niall laughed a little and rolled his eyes, but his shoulders looked a little less tense. “I know. But they love each other too, you know?” 

Zayn wrapped his arm around Niall’s waist, leaning to kiss his cheek. “It’s different with us. But yes, I promise we won’t get like that, and if we ever did, we’d make it better.” It wasn’t that Zayn didn’t think Liam would, but he got what Niall was feeling, like things just weren’t right there anymore. He just hoped it got better when the baby came. 

\------------

The plastic seat was making his arse go numb, but Zayn had given up the comfortable one for an older woman, clearly a soon to be grandmother, and he couldn’t complain without being a jerk. The chair hardly mattered though, not as minutes continued to tick by with no news from Liam or sight of Niall. 

Zayn checked his phone again, frowning at the dying battery, then locked it again to tuck it in his pocket. Liam had been prepared for this, but Zayn apparently hadn’t thought he’d need anything. Then again, no one had told him waiting on a baby to come required nine months plus hours in an hospital waiting room. He shifted in his seat again, trying to work some feeling into his ass and tried to decide if it was worth the vital sixteen percent left of his phone battery to listen to music. Liam had been sending updates, but that wasn’t happening as often and Niall had been at work and not able to get to his phone to do more than let them know that he’d be there as soon as he could. 

The double doors to the waiting room banged open, making everyone jump. Zayn jerked his head around, ready to glare at whoever was making so much noise, but the offender was Niall and that had Zayn on his feet. Niall spotted him and turned his way, blonde hair falling in his eyes from where whatever he’d had in it had worn out, his tie he had to wear as part of his uniform at the pub was half undone, and when he wrapped Zayn up in his arms he still smelled like cigarettes and beer. “Is she here yet?” 

Zayn shook his head, guiding Niall back to the chair he’d been in, not at all surprised when Niall joined him in it. “Not yet. At least not since two minutes ago. Any moment though I think. It should be at least.” 

Niall laced his fingers with Zayn’s, head close to his, nose against Zayn’s temple for a long moment before pulling back to look at him. “Soon enough. At least I didn’t miss it.” 

“You wouldn’t miss it,” Zayn murmured softly. “I knew you wouldn’t.” 

“You two are a little young to be expecting, aren’t you?” 

Zayn and Niall both looked up at the same time, staring at the grandmother Zayn had given his seat up to. “Um, excuse me?” 

She let her knitting needles fall to her lap, nodding. “You’re adorable, but I’m just surprised you’re so young.” 

Niall bit his lip a little, obviously trying to keep from laughing, eventually burying his face in Zayn’s shoulder. Of course this nice lady would think they were together. And expecting! It had been ages since someone had said something like that about them, well over a year at least. Their friends were used to their cuddly and comfortable relationship and no one seemed interested enough to the point of asking. Having a stranger though, an older one who had every right not not think they were adorable, just assume that they were together, shifted things in Zayn’s mind. Did everyone else assume they were together? Were they together? It was like being sixteen and wondering all over again. 

Zayn shook his head when he realized he hadn’t answered and Niall probably wouldn’t be able to without laughing. “No, no we’re…” 

“Uncles,” Niall supplied, voice shockingly under control despite the laughter he’d been holding back moments before. “Our best friend. He and his wife. We’re uncles.” 

Grandma watched them for a moment then nodded, smiling to herself. “Lucky little girl.” 

“That’s what we think,” Niall agreed, squeezing Zayn’s hand. Zayn chuckled and rested his head on Niall’s shoulder, settling in to keep waiting for their niece and try not to get lost on the swirling thoughts that wanted to take over. It was a nice idea, thinking of them as uncles with a niece, as part of Liam’s family rather than just two friends who were being supportive. It was even more to think of themselves in the way the grandma did, still smiling, still thinking of them as a couple because, Zayn realized belatedly, they hadn’t been clear on that point. They’d cleared up that they weren’t waiting on a surrogate or a baby to adopt, but neither he nor Niall had gone on record saying they weren’t a couple. Zayn had to wonder how they’d wandered back to that and if it meant anything. 

There was still plenty of time to wonder though. Liam’s updates were coming again, Becca was fine, but things were moving slowly, and the grandmother’s daughter had loaned them a phone charger, which meant Niall had his games and Zayn had his music again, but all it did was help slowly pass the time. 

Eventually they were the only ones left in the waiting room, moving to one of the abandoned small couches, Niall sitting up with Zayn’s head on his lap. It wasn’t that much more comfortable than the plastic chair, made with an industrial type cushion that had very little give in attempts to keep it functioning for years to come, but Niall was comfortable and warm and it was enough for Zayn to consider a nap. 

“This is going to change everything, isn’t it?” Niall’s voice cut through the soft tones that Zayn could hear through the one earbud he had in and it had him rolling so he could look up at Niall who was looking half off into space, brow creased in a rare frown. 

“For Liam yeah,” Zayn said, reaching up to press his finger against the line between Niall’s eyebrows, trying to smooth it away. That didn’t belong there. Not on Niall. 

Niall looked down at him, catching Zayn’s hand and holding it against his cheek for a moment before letting it drop. “Us too, though.”

Zayn hadn’t thought that was the case and it was reason enough for him to sit up, turning so he was facing Niall. “What are you thinking?”

His friend wasn’t looking at him, but Zayn could tell he was sorting out his answer, trying to determine what words would explain things better. 

“We can’t go back,” Niall said eventually. “We’re always going be us, and Liam and the baby. We can’t go back to the way it was. And what’s worse, I don’t know if I want to go back.” He hummed softly then shook his head. “I don’t. It’s all changing and I know I should be more upset about that. We’re not that old and our lives are going upside down, but-” Niall stopped mid thought, turning in his seat so he was looking at Zayn too. “But I worry it changes us. I don’t want it to change us.” 

Zayn opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t have an answer for that right away. He was blown away by the way Niall was so ready to add Liam’s baby into their lives. It made sense, Zayn felt the same way, but Niall hadn’t said it himself and while Zayn didn’t want to doubt his best friend, he knew that keeping their lives aligned with Liam’s was asking a lot. Zayn didn’t see the issue because he only had so many friends and he wasn’t about to let that kind of major life change take Liam away, but Niall had tons of friends. When the blonde reached for his hand as Zayn’s silence stretched on too long, Zayn realized maybe Niall didn’t see his endless list of acquaintances the same as he did Zayn and Liam. 

“We’re always gonna be us, babe,” Zayn said finally, looking up at Niall. “We’ll be uncles now, but we’ll still always be Zee and Nialler.” Though that alone had taken on a life of its own lately. There were more pet names, more touching, more time spent with just each other now that Liam had moved out, but at the core it was still just them, same as they’d always been. 

“Right, but what about-” Niall started, but Zayn stood up before he could say more. Liam had just pushed his way through the double doors leading back to the maternity ward. He’d been crying and was wearing a set of blue scrubs instead of his clothes, Zayn could see that from across the room, and Zayn gripped Niall’s hand hard out of worry that something was wrong, until the smile they all loved so much, the one that made his eyes crinkle almost shut spread across his face. 

“She’s here?” Zayn asked, watching fresh tears pool in Liam’s eyes as he made his way over to them. 

“She’s here. She’s perfect. Come see.” Liam had his hand out to them and Zayn pulled at Niall, reaching for his jacket, but he felt Niall hold back. Zayn turned, looking down at his friend. His best friend. His whole world. He thought of the grandmother, the way she’d thought they were the ones expecting, waiting for their baby, and he was hit with how desperately he wanted that with Niall. They were too young, they weren’t even together, but he couldn’t imagine having a baby with anyone else.

“You okay?” he asked softly, grabbing Niall’s bag for him, feeling not okay himself, but more worried about the way Niall wasn’t jumping up with him. Niall’s blue eyes kept studied his face, but whatever he saw there was apparently enough because he was getting up, still holding Zayn’s hand. 

“Yeah. Great.” 

\----------

Zayn remembered his youngest sister being born vividly, considering he was a good bit older than her, but he was small then and the tiny little bundle of pink blankets and baby in his arms seemed so much smaller than the bundle his ten year old self had held. Tiny, perfect Harriet had a dark curl peeking out from under the pink hat they’d put on her and she yawned, shifting slightly and Zayn was pretty sure he felt his whole world shift with her. She wasn’t even _his_ , but apparently that didn’t matter. 

Liam had brought them back right away, showing them the tiny baby in Becca’s arms and then it wasn’t just Liam with tears in his eyes, but all three of them having a little bit of a cry over it while Niall recorded the whole thing and snapped pictures on his phone. The nurses had come in, ushering everyone but Liam out, and Zayn and Niall leaned against the wall and looked at the pictures until Liam was being led out by the top nurse. She spoke to him softly, rubbing his arm at one point, then stepping back. Becca wasn’t doing great at the moment, but they’d given her something to help her sleep, but everything was under control. Everyone was healthy and that was what mattered. Becca would be better after she got some rest. Liam didn’t look very convinced when he said it, but Zayn and Niall didn’t call him out on it. Zayn could only imagine how difficult having a baby was. Becca probably earned a little bit of a freak out and some real rest. 

So they let her sleep, keeping their voices down while Zayn finally got to hold his niece. Niall had run down to find something for Liam to eat and drink since he hadn’t had anything, leaving just the proud daddy and Zayn together, looking down at the little angel in Zayn’s arms. 

“You’re good at this,” Liam whispered, rubbing his knuckle against Harriet’s cheek, voice still in awe over her. 

“I’m an older brother, remember?” Zayn joked lightly. “I was ten when Safaa was born. I remember this for her. Though I don’t think she was this tiny, but she was this adorable.” His little sister had annoyed him for most of his life, but when he left home he realized how much he missed her. 

Liam huffed a laugh and nodded. “I always forget it’s Niall that’s like me, the baby.” 

“Not sure how you could miss that. You both act like it,” Zayn teased, opening his mouth with Harriet when she yawned again, feeling a little stupid for it, but unable to help himself. 

“He okay?”

Zayn looked up confused. “Who?” 

“Ni. He seemed...off earlier.” Liam looked worried, like he’d done something wrong and Zayn shook his head as hard as he could without disturbing the baby he was holding. 

“No, he’s...he’s worried this is going to change us, but I told him it’s fine.” Zayn wasn’t completely convinced that it was, Niall still seemed worried about something, but he’d plowed on assuming the best. They could deal with it later, when they weren’t busy being here for Liam and Becca. 

“Isn’t it?” 

“Isn’t what?” He was seriously having trouble following Liam, but Zayn was blaming it on the baby he was holding. 

“Isn’t it going to change things? I know it is for me. I mean us. It’s changing everything. It changes you too.” Liam sounded hopeful, like he expected his friends to be there, but didn’t want to assume they would be. 

“Of course it changes things for us,” Zayn corrected. “But it doesn’t change us, we’re still us.” 

“You could be something different,” Liam said softly, watching the baby instead of Zayn, like he was anxious about saying it to his face. 

“We can’t, Li, come on. You more than anyone knows.” 

Liam shook his head. “I thought I did, but this year, you two, you’ve been different. More like a couple than you ever have before. All our friends think you’re dating, just not talking about it because of your family or whatever.” 

“What?” 

“You’re saying that a lot.” Liam looked up at Zayn. “I thought you knew.” 

Zayn opened his mouth then shut it, frowning at Liam. “I didn’t…” 

“Oh, well, they do. Bressie calls you Niall’s boyfriend and Niall never corrects him. I really thought you would have noticed that neither of you actually dated this year.” 

“We had a busy year!” Zayn lifted his arms a little, physical evidence of his busy year. And yes, he had noticed, he’d enjoyed it, but he hadn’t thought it meant they were together, just that they both had other things on their minds. Zayn certainly had, but at the same time, he was still so completely gone for Niall, he probably wouldn’t have been able to like anyone else. But that was Zayn, not Niall. Zayn had assumed Niall was focused on other priorities. 

“I had a busy year,” Liam corrected, running his finger over Harriet’s shoulder under the blanket. “You could have dated while I was getting ready for the baby. Niall too.” 

Zayn turned, looking at the door like Niall might appear at any moment. “He was busy too.” 

“Because he’s with you,” Liam stated, as if that was obvious. 

“Liam, he’s not.” 

“Why not? What makes you so different from any other couple we know?” 

“We’re not having sex?” Zayn offered, feeling like that was the most obvious answer. 

“That’s it though.” Liam had a smug look on his face and Zayn realized why the moment he started to protest. He didn’t have a protest. He really couldn’t say anything else. They were like every other couple that Zayn knew. He scowled at Liam, but Liam ignored it and kept talking. “Change that. Then you’ll be set. You’ll be great together.” 

“I can’t, Li.” Zayn moved, going to sit in the armchair the room had because he didn’t trust his knees to hold him if he told Liam the truth. 

“You can. You kiss him, he’ll go for it. He’s Niall. He loves you.” 

“But he’s not in love with me,” Zayn told the baby in his arms. She’d understand wouldn’t she? He hoped she was quiet and soulful like her father instead of loud and bright like her mother. The world could do with more people like Liam. 

At least it could when Liam wasn’t staring at Zayn like he was right that instant. Like Zayn was lying to him. 

“He’s very much in love with you.” 

“He’s not,” Zayn insisted, looking up. He checked the door again for Niall then shook his head. “We kissed. And… it didn’t go anywhere.” 

Liam looked like he might fall over and, as much as Zayn didn’t want Niall to walk in on him admitting to what happened between them, he was sure Liam needed whatever snacks Niall was bringing. And maybe a nurse. “What!?!” It was a loud whisper, almost a squeak and it was enough for Becca to mumble in her sleep and roll over. 

“At your party. It...he...we…” Zayn paused, took a deep breath and told Liam the truth. “He pulled me into the bathroom and kissed me senseless. Then...left. And he never said anything.” 

Zayn hated the way Liam looked, opening his mouth and closing it, but not in the cute imitating the baby way. It was more like he kept trying to make words happen but they didn’t. Or like a fish. A very large, manly fish with stubble, flat hair, and blue hospital scrubs. Like the goofy blue fish in Finding Nemo. 

“You didn’t tell me!” Liam eventually blurted.

“I was going to,” Zayn insisted. “I was waiting on him to say something, to say he remembered, but he didn’t even remember getting to Bressie’s that night and then.” Zayn held up Harriet again to remind Liam. “The day you got the news from the doctor? I tried to tell you that morning. Then...your wedding and it just seemed stupid to bring it up. What was a snog that meant nothing when we had her coming?” 

“You don’t really think it meant nothing, do you?” Liam had always known Zayn better than to assume that and Zayn was sure he had every right to doubt what Zayn was saying. 

“Not for me, no. It put me right back where I’d been years ago. But it meant nothing to him or he doesn’t remember and that’s _fine_ because he’s still my Niall and, if that’s all I have, that’s enough.” It wasn’t even close to enough, but it was all Zayn could get and it was miles better than nothing. 

“I don’t think it meant nothing to him either. He’s Niall, he wouldn’t...he would have known it was you. He knows you better than he knows himself.” 

Zayn shook his head. “I’ve been down that road. This one is safer and doesn’t get me hurt. Everything is fine Liam, but we’re not in love. We’re just Nialler and Zee, like always.” 

Liam didn’t look like he bought that, but Niall picked that moment, thank everything, to come back, pressing a cold coke into Liam’s hand. “Had to coax a cute nurse into letting me into the staff room for that. The machines in the lobby were empty.” He handed Liam a protein bar too, then held up a bag of Zayn’s favorite crisps. “Trade you for the baby.”

“That’s hardly enough…” Zayn started, but Niall held up his favorite soda to go with it and Zayn had to admit he could use the caffeine and the sugar. “Fine, fine.” he said, giving up Harriet for his treats. Liam looked at him pointedly once Niall was making cooing noises at the baby, but Zayn ignored him. It was fine. Everything was fine. 

\---------

Zayn’s phone was ringing and something, no someone, pressed his face into the space between Zayn’s bare shoulder blades, groaning about it. “Turn it off,” he moaned and Zayn fumbled for the phone, feeling familiar hands loop around his waist, holding him closer. He looked over his shoulder at Niall, still blindly reaching for the phone. “Why are you in my bed?” he asked. Niall hadn’t been there when he went to sleep, but there he was, hair matted from sleeping, shirt rucked up around his ribs. 

“S’better here. Make the noise stop.” 

Zayn rolled his eyes, but squinted at the phone as it stopped ringing, Liam’s picture fading away. “It’s Li.” And three am. Then someone pounded on the door and Zayn put all the pieces together. “Li’s here,” he told Niall, extracting himself from the blonde’s grip and heading for the front door. “Get out of my bed,” he added before leaving the bedroom, but there wasn’t any harshness with the order. It wasn’t like he minded. He was used to Niall crawling into bed with him. He slept in Zayn’s room more than he slept in his own. 

Zayn’s phone started ringing again when he got to the door and through it he could hear Liam muttering, but more importantly Harriet crying. That got him to pull it open faster, eyes searching Liam for some sign of distress more than the crying baby and the dark circles under his eyes. “Li, oh baby,” Zayn said, already reaching for his niece and for once Liam handed her over without hesitation. “Is she okay?” Harriet was sobbing, wailing, and even though she was still small, her lungs apparently worked just fine. 

“I have no idea.” Liam’s voice broke halfway through it and Zayn ushered him in as well bouncing Harriet to get her to calm down. “She started crying and I’ve tried everything,” Liam said, holding up her bag with had a bottle and clean diapers and her favorite toy (Or so Niall insisted) sticking out of the top like they’d been shoved in there too quickly. “Nothing’s working, she just keeps crying and Becca started yelling telling me to take her away and or sm--some other nasty things, but she’s tired, you know? She’s just had a baby and she just had to sit her finals and she didn’t do as well as she would have liked because Harriet keeps her up…” Liam trailed off when Niall came into the room, frowning at Harriet’s sobs.

“Let me try?” the blonde asked and Zayn gave the baby up, watching Niall coo at her and bounce a little around the living room. 

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Liam said as his shoulders fell. “I was gonna call my mum, but Becca--” Liam got hung up on his wife’s name again and Zayn rubbed his shoulder. 

“It’s fine, babe.” It wasn’t fine. It most definitely was not fine. Becca seemed to be going through something, but Zayn wasn’t feeling like she was being a very good mother. She’d switched Harriet to bottles the instant she could, and though Liam had insisted that was normal Zayn hadn’t once seen her give Harriet a bottle if Liam or anyone else was there to do it. It hadn’t been more than a month, but every day Liam had some new tip he’d read on Mum’s Net or just wanted Zayn and Niall to know about and Becca never had anything like that. Liam had pictures on his phone that he showed them of Harriet from the few moments that Zayn or Niall wasn’t there, and not once had Becca done the same or seemed interested. At first Zayn hadn’t noticed that Becca wasn’t doing much with her baby, but every day it became more evident that Liam was doing so, so much and it seemed like Becca was doing less and less. Zayn didn’t know a damn thing about babies beyond his memories of his sisters and what he saw on the telly, but those moms all seemed so proud, all the time, even when they were tired. Liam seemed proud, even now when his baby was a mess and he was bigger one, he was still forever proud of Harriet. Did Becca not feel the same way? 

“M’sorry,” Liam still mumbled, holding up his phone. “I can still call my mum, but…” 

Liam stopped speaking when the room went quiet and both he and Zayn glanced over at Niall, who looked a little ridiculous in his brightly colored boxers and undershirt, hair a mess, and a baby in his arms, but he’d stopped the crying. Harriet was sucking on his knuckle, still whimpering but quieter now. “Where’s her...err thing,” Niall asked and they both stared at him for a moment before it clicked. 

“Pacifier, Liam?” Zayn supplied, looking at the bag and holding out his hand. 

Liam lit up for half a second then his face fell. “I...Becca got rid of them.” 

“What?” Niall’s finger slipped and Harriet started to cry again, but he righted it, watching her settle. “What?” 

Liam looked distraught, back and forth between Niall and Zayn. “Becca read a thing online about how they mess up baby’s jaws and I didn’t want her to but it’s the first thing she’s done in a while and cared about and…” Zayn knew that look. He knew what Liam had done. He’d gone with it because he wanted Becca to be involved, though he’d never say those words out loud. 

“It’s fine, Liam.” 

Liam dropped the baby bag on the coffee table, heaving a sigh. “It’s really not though.” 

Niall looked up then, catching Zayn’s eye. “Cot. There’s one in the cot.” Zayn pointed at Niall because he was right. Of course he was. The woman that Liam worked for at the coffeeshop had found out that he hadn’t had a rollaway baby cot when the baby came and given him the one her kids had outgrown. She said it saved her life. They’d set it up in the corner of Zayn’s room one night when Zayn was sitting with Harriet not long after she was born and it hadn’t left. Now whenever Liam came down with her they pulled it out so she could sleep. 

It was still half folded in the corner, but it unfolded easily enough and there was the missing pacifier, in the bottom of it. Zayn grabbed it and headed back to Niall who replaced his finger with the rubber nub, which seemed to soothe Harriet even more. Niall walked around the living room with her, singing softly while Zayn sat Liam down on the couch. “You okay?” 

Liam shook his head, but buried his face in his hands. “I can’t make her stop crying. Becca said she deals with her all day while I’m working and that nights are mine, but I can’t make her stop crying sometimes.” 

Zayn rubbed his back and pressed a light kiss against Liam’s temple. “But babies cry, Li. That’s what they do. They can’t talk yet. She’s fine. She’s not unhappy. She probably just got scared.” 

“How can he make her stop crying when I can’t? I’m her dad. Her father.” 

“Have you ever seen someone of any age keep crying when Niall’s around?” Zayn asked instead, nudging Liam with his elbow. “He’s Niall. He’s sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. He’s only meant to be smiled around.” Liam laughed lightly and looked up at Zayn. His best friend looked exhausted. Zayn already knew he was working two jobs, trying save money over the summer. Becca had talked about going back to school in the summer, but sitting finals was too much, which meant she was taking the summer off and Liam hadn’t pushed her to get a job yet when he was getting by on just his two and any spare work he could pick up around the music department. “When’d you sleep last?” 

“Before she woke up,” Liam said too quickly, nodding at Harriet. 

“For longer than two hours at a time?” 

Liam winced and Zayn knew he had him. “Take my bed,” Niall said. “I wasn’t in it anyway. We got her.” 

There was that look, the very obvious slow turn where Liam looked at Niall’s state of undress and Zayn’s, considering Zayn was still in just his pants, but he didn’t say anything, thankfully. “You don’t have to,” he wound up saying instead, looking at Harriet in a way that said he was half a step from taking her back. 

“Don’t care. Go sleep. When do you have to be up for work?” Zayn insisted. 

“I have to be at the shop by eight, so I should be up by six.” 

“We’ll get you up at seven thirty. Go,” Niall kicked Liam’s knee. 

Apparently Liam was tired enough that he didn’t fight them on it, getting up and heading into Niall’s room without further protest. 

“I thought I kicked you out of my bed,” Zayn commented, raising his eyebrow at Niall who just smiled. 

“You didn’t mean it.” 

Zayn knew he was right. He didn’t. He never did. “Alright fine, come on.” He grabbed Liam’s bag and started towards his room, only slowing when Niall leaned in to kiss his cheek. It was all so incredibly domestic, so perfect, and it made Zayn’s chest hurt, but that didn’t stop him from following after Niall, small smile on his lips. 

\----------

“Zayn’s here, Becks,” Liam insisted like Zayn couldn’t hear him loud and clear where they were half shouting at each other in the kitchen. He did that more, whenever they started fighting with an audience.

“I don’t give a shit if he’s here. Maybe you shouldn’t worry about how you look in front of your friend who doesn’t seem to give a shit how he looks,” Becca snapped back. 

“Ouch,” Zayn said sing-songy to Harriet who was sat in his lap, leaning back against his legs where his feet were propped up on the coffee table. She was bigger now, able to react and interact even if she still didn’t do a lot on her own. “Uncle Zee’s not that bad looking, is he?” 

“Becks!” 

“What?! You don’t think I know how you look at him? Jesus, could he put some clothes on now and then?” 

Zayn looked down at his hoodie he was wearing in August and rolled his eyes. He knew she meant the times that one of them wandered downstairs and he was mid nap, but it was still a silly thing to fight about. Especially the part where Liam was looking at him. That ship had sailed ages ago, and Zayn knew full well that Liam only had eyes for Becca. 

“That’s not what we were arguing about. Stop trying to change the subject,” Liam insisted. 

“Atta boy, daddy,” Zayn said to Harriet, tickling her so she giggled, then humming some Jay Z. Probably not the best for a baby (especially his later stuff, which was just a shame), but it was better than her hearing her parents yell at one another. 

“Oh no, we weren’t arguing about that, you were lecturing me about getting a job. Can’t you see I have one already. I’m a _mom_ , Liam. Or did you forget where you knocked me up?” 

“Becca.” Liam was using his stern tone again and Zayn sighed, singing a little louder, but skipping over the bad words as best he could. 

“What Liam? We need me to work for what? So you can go back to school? What about me? You’re doing just fine now. Why are you being selfish?” 

 

That almost had Zayn getting up because Liam wasn’t selfish. If anything, he was selfless. Zayn had heard him talk about trying to squeeze in a third job once Becca had her schedule for the fall term and not once mentioned his own. Zayn had a sinking feeling what that meant, but Zayn hadn’t said anything to anyone but Niall so far. They were both waiting to see what Liam would say. 

“I’m not, Becks. I’m not worried about school. I’m worried about rent. And food.” Becca scoffed at him loud enough for Zayn to hear. 

“You are? Who’s gonna look after Harriet if I’m working and in school?” 

“The guys said they’d take Hattie, you know they love her. And Zayn’s schedule will be more flexible this fall,” Liam tried to explain but Becca interrupted him. 

“Don’t call her that.” 

“What?” 

“Hattie. I hate that. I know you boys call her that, stop. And I’m not handing my daughter off to a couple of your friends who don’t even know they’re dating. If they can’t see that, they can’t take care of a baby. Not to mention they’re a pair of twenty year olds. We’ll get a sitter.” 

“Becks. Come on. We can’t afford a sitter.” 

“Then I can’t work! It’s that simple!” 

Zayn winced because she was right about the dating thing, even though they weren’t, but she wasn’t right about the baby. He loved Harriet almost as much as Liam did and knew Niall felt the same way. And he was pretty sure she’d forgotten that her husband was technically younger than Zayn was. “Don’t you worry. Your godfather isn’t going to let you down.” 

“She doesn’t have a godfather,” Becca spat, suddenly there next to him. 

“Right, well, I know you’re not religious,” he said softly, looking up at her. 

“Exactly. I’d rather you not bring that in here anyway. It’s not good for the baby.” Zayn stared at Becca, then caught a glimpse of a shocked Liam over her shoulder. No one ever brought up his religion and even if he didn’t do much with it, he still that sense of spirituality at least and identified with the religion he’d been brought up in. Not one of their friends had ever held it against him and here was Becca doing just that.

“I...okay,” he said, just to fill the silence and because Becca had a look like she needed him to agree. 

“Can I have my baby back?” 

“Um…” Zayn looked at Liam again who nodded. 

“You don’t need his fucking permission.” Zayn winced at the tone in Becca’s voice, then got up, holding Harriet out to her. “You can go,” she added once he was free of the infant. 

“I...Li and I were.” 

“I really don’t care. Get out.” Becca gave him a look like she was waiting for him to move and eventually Zayn sighed. Liam looked defeated behind her, and Zayn made a mental note to make it up to him. He deserved it. 

\------

“Should we just invite him out sometime?” Niall asked, leaning over the bar of the pub he was still working at. The place was still kind of a dump, but even after a year they let him play and it paid well. Zayn avoided the sticky spot on the bar that never went away and shrugged. 

“He won’t come. Even if we offer to cover his drinks, which is never a lot, he won’t do it.” Zayn sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He’d cut it short again, not wanting to deal with it, but it was still a longer on the top so he could play with it. “He needs a break though. I think he’s starting to wear so thin you can see through him.” 

Niall tapped the bar a few more times then leaned back. “What if we have something at our place. He can even bring the baby and we’ll set her up and just get him drunk and let him pass out on the couch. We can handle her for the night, right?” 

“You mean I can?” Zayn asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn’t see Niall getting Liam drunk and not getting drunk himself. 

“No, I mean we. Me even, if you want to get tipsy. Haven’t seen you drunk in ages.” 

 

That was because Zayn made sure not to do it around Niall. He only ever got drunk if he was out with his classmates, and even then only if he knew he wasn’t coming home after. At the most he got high around Niall, not nearly as prone to him trying to kiss Niall like it was a good idea. If he got drunk kissing would seem like a brilliant idea. “Nothing to see. Let’s invite him over. He’s got Monday morning off.” 

“Classes start on Monday,” Niall pointed out. 

“When has that ever stopped us?” 

Niall laughed and nodded. “You have Liam duty. I’ll get supplies.” 

\--------

In the end, Zayn had lied to Liam to get him there. It wasn’t his proudest moment and Liam hadn’t been pleased, but after his third beer his cheeks were rosy and his shoulders had relaxed. Harriet was fast asleep in Zayn’s room, her monitor on and sitting next to Niall who was actually nursing his third beer, though three wouldn’t have the impact on him like it would Liam. 

Liam pressed his hands on the coffee table, half looking like he wanted to get off the couch and needed it for leverage and half like he needed it to keep him steady. “I’m dropping out,” he slurred. 

That wasn’t really news. Zayn had guessed because Liam hadn’t gone into his pre-term frenzy of trying to study the courses they were going to teach him before he got there, or buying new supplies, but it was still sad to hear it out in the open. “Sorry, mate.” 

The way Liam was shaking his head looked like it hurt and left him pausing after probably to keep the room from spinning too much. “S’fine. It’s better. Becks has classes and she’s signed up and getting a job and I need to work so we can make rent and food and diapers.” He patted the coffee table then leaned back on the couch. “It’s was kind of a silly idea anyway.” 

“Which idea?” Niall asked before Zayn could. 

“Being famous,” Liam said with a little giggle. “Producing music. Not really talented like you lot,” he waved at both of them. “But I would have liked it. Pretending I’m Timberland and all that.” 

“You’ve obviously got his style down,” Niall teased, nudging Liam’s too big boot with his trainer. Instead of looking teased Liam just smiled brightly like it was a compliment. 

“You could still do it,” Zayn said sitting up more, tucking his feet under him. He hated hearing Liam give up on his dream.

“No.” He looked at his hands and sighed. “No. Maybe Becks’ll do it. She could get famous. Make a brilliant movie.” 

Niall snorted at that and Zayn knew why. Becca’s work tended to be weird and abstract, not the kind of blockbuster hit that would make them famous. Niall looked like he regretted it, but Liam laughed. 

“No, you’re right,” he told Niall, waving at him. “She won’t. She’s not interested in doing something mainstream.” Liam sighed. “I asked her about going home, back to Wolverhampton. She screamed at me for squashing her dreams. My baby is going to have a complex with how much her parents argue.” 

Zayn picked at the label on his beer bottle, tugging at it for a long moment. “Liam, have you ever thought about going without her?” 

Liam looked up from where he’d been studying his shoes. “Where?” 

“Home. I don’t want you to go, but if you think it’d be better…” Zayn took a deep breath. “You could leave her.” 

“No.” Liam shook his head again, not even thinking on the reply. “No, I couldn’t. I love her. She’s Hattie’s mum. She’s my wife. It’s gonna get better once we get on our feet. When she gets a job we can start saving some money, just in case, and then we can have a sitter more and she can start doing what she loves and we won’t be struggling. I’m not leaving her. That’s just giving up.” 

Niall made a soft noise from behind him and Liam turned shaking his head again. “That’s not, Nialler,” he started, but Niall cut him off. 

“I get what you mean. It would be giving up to you. Just because my parents didn’t work out together doesn’t mean you and Becca can’t fix things.” He got up from the chair he was curled in, holding out his beer. “Another?” he asked Liam who nodded, but Zayn shook his head. 

Zayn watched him go, then looked back at Liam who looked even sadder than he had moments before if that was possible. “You’ll tell him I’m sorry, right?” Liam asked and Zayn nodded, poking Liam with his toe.

“He knows you are and he knows you didn’t mean that they gave up. We just want you to be happy, Li.” 

“I love her. So much. More than anyone ever,” Liam said and Zayn knew he meant it. It just sucked that Becca didn’t seem to love him back like she had. 

Somewhere around the end of Liam’s fourth beer he passed out on the couch and Zayn dropped a blanket over him before grabbing the monitor and heading towards the bathroom where Niall was brushing his teeth. It was a smaller bathroom than the one they’d had in the other flat, barely enough room for Zayn to step into it beyond leaning in the doorway. “He’s out cold. You want this?” He held up the monitor. Harriet was in Zayn’s room so he didn’t really need it, but Niall might want it to help out. That was the deal, let Liam get drunk, then take over baby watching for the night. 

Niall shook his head before spitting out and rinsing his mouth, wiping away the last of the toothpaste with the back of his hand. “Don’t need it.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense. What made less sense was Niall wrapping his hand around Zayn’s hip, pulling him more into the little bathroom. His fingers were cool, even through Zayn’s shirt, but his breath was warm against Zayn’s cheek when he nosed against Zayn’s temple. 

“Can I stay with you?” 

He hadn’t asked permission in ages, not since before… everything. For well over a year he’d just invited himself in and now he was asking. Niall’s thumb pressed into the soft skin at Zayn’s hip and Zayn knew it was right over that heart tattoo. Niall couldn’t see it, but he knew where it was. 

“You know you don’t have to ask,” Zayn breathed, surprised it sounded teasing when all he could think about was the way Niall was making every hair on his body stand on end and goosebumps spread across his skin. 

 

“I…” Niall stopped and Zayn wondered how much he’d had to drink. He’d stopped counting, but maybe it was more than Zayn thought. He didn’t smell like beer though, just Niall and mint, but that might have been why he’d brushed his teeth. “I want to this time. To ask. And to stay.” 

Zayn felt his breath catch in his throat, but he nodded nonetheless. “You don’t have to ask. I always want you there.” It was stupidly honest, but all it did was make Niall’s hand on his grip him a little tighter, pulling him in closer for more of a hug. 

“Love you,” Niall murmured, so soft that if he hadn’t been right next to Zayn’s ear, he wouldn’t have heard it. 

“You too.” Zayn went to pull back, but Niall pressed a kiss against his jaw. The blonde lingered there, just for a moment and then he was the one pulling back, turning them so that Zayn was in the tiny room and Niall was outside of it. He grabbed the monitor from Zayn then smiled before heading off to Zayn’s room. 

Zayn didn’t have to look in the mirror to know he was blushing and he felt ridiculous touching the spot that Niall had just kissed, but it felt like _something_. Like so much more than it had been in the past. Maybe Liam was right. They could just do something about it. They could just shift into that, couldn’t they? Maybe Niall didn’t like guys, but he could like Zayn. Zayn could be the exception. It happened didn’t it? 

Zayn was smiling when he finished getting ready for bed, heading back to his room, but Niall was curled up on the far side of the bed, facing away from where he normally would and facing away from Zayn. When Zayn sat back on the bed, he didn’t move and seemed to be asleep. That wasn’t what Zayn had expected, not after that moment. He laid down next to Niall, touching his back, but the other man didn’t move, just kept breathing steadily. Maybe he’d been more exhausted than he let on. Zayn focused on that and closed his eyes, letting himself fall asleep. 

Harriet slept through the night like the good little baby she was, not waking up until half six. Zayn sat up, reaching for Niall to wake him too, but only found empty sheets. No sign of Niall at all. He patted the bed, only barely warm from someone being there. Tears swelled in his chest as Harriet cried out again and Zayn swallowed them back, getting up to scoop her out of the cot. “It’s fine, baby,” he told her softly, rocking her back and forth as she clung to his shirt. “We both knew better, didn’t we? We knew he’d leave.” He’d just stupidly hoped he wouldn’t this time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! For those of you interested, there's a spotify playlist!
> 
> [FFOUT Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/winglesswarrior/playlist/0jmHm7gj7BE4o3zt7LyXCd)
> 
> Feel free to stalk me on the spotify, just don't judge me for the randomness of my music.

“My hero!” Becca’s hair was still in curlers, but she was dragging Zayn through the door, hugging him tightly and he did his best to avoid the heat coming off her head. It was another one of her mood swings, one Zayn had no hope in placing, considering just the day before she’d ranted about Liam spending too much time with him and being interested in Zayn instead of her, but apparently that was just Becca, jealous phases and all. 

Back in her nursery, Harriet started crying and Becca huffed a sigh. “Damnit, I was hoping she’d nap longer. It took just short of forever to get her to go down.” She spun in the direction of the sound and Zayn just barely managed to duck out of the way of the hot rollers. “You don’t think you could…” She motioned at her hair and he nodded.

“I got her. Finish getting ready,” Zayn said, waving Becca back towards her bathroom. He set his bag down on the couch, then headed back to the nursery to find Harriet crying in her cot, making grabby hands at him the moment she could see him. Becca had called, half-frantic, hoping Zayn didn’t have work or classes, and begged him to come and sit with Harriet for a couple hours until Liam got home from work because she had to leave earlier than expected. It wasn’t a big deal and after Liam’s stringent babysitting trainings, Zayn didn’t struggle at all with getting Harriet changed or making up her bottle. By the time Becca was done primping, Harriet was curled his arms on the couch, clean, fed, burped, and playing with the strings on Zayn’s hoodie. 

“You’ve got a knack for that, don’t you?” she said, pushing a bit of hair out her eyes and back into place with the rest that fell around her shoulders in gentle curls. It went perfectly with the little black dress she had on and if Zayn were to tell someone, they wouldn’t believe that she’d had a baby five months ago. 

“I’ve had a good teacher,” Zayn said, sitting up more. “You look great.” They didn’t get along as well as they used to, but Zayn wasn’t above trying to mend their relationship where he could. Compliments had always worked before and seemed to work now. Becca grinned and turned on one toe, showing off her dress and hair. 

“You think so? Not too...uni-aged mom?” 

Zayn was pretty sure she was as far from looking like a mother as she could get with the dark make up and short dress, but he just shook his head. “Nah. You look incredible. Work?” What was she doing that she had to be that dressed up? Zayn had thought she was working at a shop near campus, but maybe she’d gotten sacked and found something else. That had happened before. 

Becca clearly hesitated when she reached for her bag, digging out her phone and keys. “Yeah,” she said slowly and not entirely convincing. “Trying to find somewhere that pays better,” she added with a smile and while Zayn wasn’t sure he believed her, he didn’t say anything. What was he going to say? Accuse her of lying? It wasn’t really his place, was it? And what if he did and she told Liam he couldn’t hang out with them anymore? How was he supposed to deal with that?

“Fingers crossed then,” he said instead, ignoring his concerns and skepticism. He was being judgemental with no basis for it. “Don’t worry about Hattie. I’ve got her.” 

“Right, well… I wasn’t worried.” Becca hesitated again at the door then came back, leaning down to kiss Harriet’s head, but moving away before Harriet could react and reach for her. “Call Liam if you need anything,” she called from the door and Zayn frowned at it once it closed behind her. 

“Why would I call your dad?” he asked Harriet, who just smacked her hands together before reaching for the ties of his hoodie again, not seeming to know the answer or care when he was there to tug at. “No, I don’t know either.” 

Zayn played with Harriet for a little bit, shaking her favorite toy, which turned out to be his keys, in front of her, but stealing them before she could drool all over them. After a while, he got her set up in the little swing Liam had found secondhand. It didn’t swing in its own anymore, but it still gave her somewhere to sit while she watched Zayn work on sketches for his class, giggling every time he reached out to give her a little push. 

After about an hour, she fell asleep as she seemed to usually do and he did his best not to wake her. “Can’t wait until you’re a little bigger and we can play until your dad gets home,” he told her, but went back to sketching, even if he’d shifted from what he was supposed to be working on for class to cartoon drawings of a bigger Harriet, with pigtails and eyes like her father. 

Just as Zayn’s stomach started to growl and he began debating the options between raiding Liam’s cabinets or calling Niall to have him bring something up, the front door to the flat opened. “I know we said we weren’t going to celebrate,” Liam said, and when Zayn looked up, he had a takeaway bag in one hand and a small shopping bag in the other. “But I couldn’t resist. I mean, first anniver--you’re not Becks.” Liam stopped halfway through closing the door behind him, staring at Zayn, that adorably confused look on his face. “Is she here?” he asked, ducking further into the flat like his wife might appear out of somewhere, the kitchen, their bedroom, anywhere. 

Zayn shook his head slowly when Liam came back to him, still holding everything he’d come in with, still wearing the polo shirt with the coffee shop logo on it. He smelled like coffee, which Liam swore he hated, so Zayn kept the fact that he loved it to himself. “She’s not. Left...two hours ago maybe? She called, said she had to be somewhere and asked if I could sit with Hattie until you got back.” He felt terrible eying the food bag, but his stomach was growling again.

When he looked up at Liam though, his best friend looked completely gutted. He turned towards the door, then back to Zayn and Harriet, and then back to his room again. “I…” 

“What is it?” Zayn asked, setting his artwork aside and getting up, taking the bags out of Liam’s hands before he dropped them. He took them into the kitchen, not at all surprised when Liam trailed after him or that Liam didn’t answer right away. He was clearly upset, trying to piece the right words together, and Zayn was willing to give him the time to do it. Meanwhile, Zayn set the food on the counter and the other bag on the table, unpacking it while Liam gaped in the doorway. The fancy biscuits were nothing, but the flowers, the bottle of champagne, even if it was the cheap stuff, and the small bag from a jeweler had Zayn turning to look at the calendar on the wall in the kitchen fast enough to get whiplash. 

It was in the same place it had been in their flat, another kitschy calendar Liam had bought after the new year on super sale, some boy band no one cared about, but one day was marked with a big heart around it and a “1” in the middle of it. Today. “Oh no.” 

That was enough to shake Liam from his stupor, already moving towards the things Zayn had unpacked and packing them up again. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“It is a big, huge fucking deal,” Zayn said, snatching the jewelry bag off the table before Liam could get to it. “She missed it. She’s supposed to keep up with that.” 

“Seriously, it’s not.” Liam reached for the bag Zayn had, eyes pleading, but Zayn wasn’t going to let him get away with it this time and he held it just out of reach. 

“It is. You...you can’t afford all of this.” 

“I can too!” 

“If you tap into your rainy day savings, and she’s not even here! She didn’t even mention it.” Zayn frowned more, peeking into the bag and seeing the box that screamed fancy bracelet in the bottom of it. He’d gotten her an actual gift. 

“She didn’t text you, did she? She was here, getting dressed up. Maybe you were supposed to meet her for a proper dinner out.” 

Liam frowned, looking at his phone and shaking his head. “Wait. Where did she go?” 

“She wouldn’t say…” Zayn said, just as the front door opened again and they both ran back that way. Zayn knew Liam was hoping it was Becca, but he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Niall standing there. 

“Oh, you got in touch with Zayn already? Cool. We can get Hattie’s things then get out of your way. You and the lady can get to celebrating properly.” Niall winked dramatically, but his smile faded when no one else laughed or even moved. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” Liam insisted, going back to the kitchen. 

“Becks forgot about their anniversary,” Zayn supplied. 

“We weren’t celebrating!” Liam yelled from the kitchen loud enough to wake Harriet, who started crying immediately.

“If you aren’t celebrating, why did you text me to come get Hattie for the night?” Niall asked, going for the baby, picking her up and cooing at her when Liam came back out of the kitchen, swearing softly. 

“Because I wanted to surprise her, but she’s not here and she’s not answering her phone,” Liam explained, voice terse from holding back his emotions, but Zayn wasn’t sure if it was anger or tears. “Where did she go?” he asked Zayn, voice demanding. 

“I don’t know, mate,” Zayn said, just as Harriet started to quiet in Niall’s arms. “I asked if it was work and she said yes, to find a job that paid better.” He didn’t realize it until he looked down, but he’d taken a step back from Liam’s anger. 

Liam seemed realize it though and he let his shoulders slump, shaking his head. “It’s fine.” He turned again, heading back into the kitchen. 

Zayn looked at Niall, who shook his head. “Not even close to fine,” Niall whispered and Zayn nodded, following after Liam. Because he was Liam, he’d already put all the food away in the fridge to keep for later and the rest of the things he’d bought. The flowers were even in a tall glass that was doubling as a vase. He was leaning against the counter, holding the bracelet box, obviously fighting with his emotions. 

“She forgot, Zee. She…” Liam sighed loudly and wiped at his eyes. “Thanks for coming up to take care of Hattie. I know you probably had other things you wanted to do. If she had somewhere to be, it must have been important. We can celebrate later.”

“You know I don’t mind sitting with her. And I’m sure she didn’t forget,” Zayn tried, but Liam shook his head. 

“Those sort of silly things don’t matter to her.” 

Zayn was pretty sure first wedding anniversaries weren’t a silly thing and he was also sure that those sort of things used to matter to Becca. She’d been the one planning Liam’s birthday bash a month in advance when Zayn and Niall hadn’t even thought about it. “I don’t think that’s it.” 

Liam nodded sadly. “It must have been important, whatever it was.” He sighed again and pushed away from the counter. “I’ll get Hattie from Niall. You two can go home. Thanks again.” 

“You sure you don’t want us to stay? We don’t mind,” Zayn said softly, reaching for Liam to hug him when he was close enough. Liam leaned into the hug for a moment then pulled away shaking his head.

“No need. Nothing going on here. Just a bath and bedtime.” He smiled and Zayn hated the way it didn’t go all the way to his eyes. When was the last time he’d smiled like that? Zayn wasn’t sure he remembered and he hated it. 

\--------

“Third time in a week,” Zayn said into the phone, picking at the food Niall had dropped off before going to work. Of course, being at work hadn’t stopped Niall from calling to check in on Zayn. 

“Seriously? I thought it was getting better.” 

“Me too,” Zayn said with a heavy sigh. “But they were yelling at each other when I came in today. Apparently Liam didn’t know I was coming.” 

“She didn’t tell him?” Niall asked, then said something off the phone, probably to the lone few customers he had on a Tuesday. It was one of the few nights the pub didn’t have live music, which meant the only rush they had was right after the local office jobs let out and even then there weren’t many people that went out to drink on a Tuesday after work. Not at a pub that didn’t have good food. 

“Guess not. So he was doing his disappointed Liam almost-shouting when I got here and she was yelling at him.” 

“Hattie?” 

“Crying, of course,” Zayn said, hating that he could tell that upset Liam. He’d been holding the baby, trying to get her calm down while her mother yelled and Liam tried to leave for work. “Took me half an hour to really calm her down and, even then, I think she just wore herself out. Liam looked like hated everything about leaving me with her, but he couldn’t get Becks to stay either, because she said she had a revision session.” 

“We’ve known her like two years and she’s never once revised,” Niall pointed out, which echoed Zayn’s thoughts on the matter. “Calm down yer arse, I’m getting it,” he called out to one of his customers, though it was with such a jovial tone that Zayn guessed the patron laughed. “Bossy fuckers I’ve got in here tonight,” he mumbled to Zayn, but didn’t hang up the phone or say he had to go. That was the sort of thing that always gave Zayn a little thrill, that he was always the most important thing in Niall’s life. 

“You’re right though, I highly doubt that was where she was headed,” Zayn said with a sigh. “What do we do?” 

“Stage an intervention? Convince him to lay down the law?” Niall offered, but Zayn shook his head before remembering Niall couldn’t see it. 

“He wouldn’t do it. He loves her too much. He keeps waiting for it to get better or trying things that might fix it but they don’t work.” Zayn sighed and leaned back on Liam’s couch, too worried about his friend to even draw or do any sort of work. 

“Yeah and how well did date night go last week?” Niall asked and Zayn sighed again, knowing Niall was right. Becca had come home drunk after forgetting their anniversary and though Liam swore her going out with her friends was fine, that he didn’t mind, it was hard to miss the sadness in those big brown eyes. He’d planned another night for them to celebrate instead, but those plans had been scrapped too when Becca melted down the day of with another one of her ill-timed jealous fits, insisting she didn’t want Zayn around even to babysit. Liam had to cancel their plans and, as far as Zayn knew, the bracelet he’d bought his wife was still hidden in his sock drawer. 

“I know. I just don’t know what else to do. He’s not going to listen to us.” Zayn wished Liam would. He’d felt terrible suggesting that Liam leave Becca the first time, but after the last month of constant fighting, he didn’t feel as bad suggesting it. 

“Don’t let us get like that,” Niall said and Zayn huffed a humorless laugh and rolled his eyes. 

“We’re not a couple, babe.” The words surprised Zayn, but he supposed it made sense that eventually he’d be able to say it. He needed to, because Niall was worried what was going on between Becca and Liam could happen to them, but why it couldn’t rested in that statement alone. They weren’t a couple. The stakes weren’t as high, were they? What didn’t surprise him though was the way that Niall brushed it off, like he always had. 

“Doesn’t matter. We’re not turning into that.” 

“Never.” Zayn heard Niall yell to someone else off the line and smiled to himself. It wasn’t any better, the way they acted like a couple without being one, and Zayn knew he needed to talk to someone about it, but Liam had too much on his plate and there really wasn’t anyone else left that would understand. So Zayn was just going with it and hoping for he best. 

“Fucking fools. What do they think, I work here?” Niall grumbled. 

“You should go. You do work there,” Zayn reminded him. “Go on. I’ll be here when you get home. Li should be back by then.” 

“You sure?” Zayn could tell Niall was lingering because Zayn had seemed upset when he called, which came on the wake of Zayn’s concerned texts about the fight he’d walked in on. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. See you tonight, alright?” 

“Of course,” Niall said, the smile evident in his voice before he hung up. Zayn looked at his phone, sighing to himself. He needed to not get caught up in the way Niall was smiling in response to seeing Zayn later. That wasn’t helping him out of the ‘not a thing’ relationship they were in, but pulling him deeper down instead. 

\------------

Zayn heard the wailing before he even got to the door and he wasn’t at all surprised that the guy living in the flat living next to his stuck his head out the moment he heard Zayn’s keys. He was probably watching through the peephole for him. “You and your boyfriend’s baby needs to stop,” he said sternly and Zayn smiled weakly. 

“Niece. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’ll sort it out,” he said, hoping the guy believed him, but Zayn was pretty sure he didn’t. Could someone call the police for a crying baby? What the hell would that conversation be like? Zayn pushed at the door harder to get it to open faster, waving at his neighbor before heading into the flat. 

Harriet was obviously there, crying her eyes out, face red while Niall tried to rock her carrier with one foot and play guitar with the other, singing over the wailing like it might calm her down. He looked up and let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. Make her stop,” he pleaded and Zayn went for the baby scooping her up immediately. “I’ve tried everything at this point,” Niall continued. “And nothing makes her happy. I think she just wants her dad. She didn’t start crying until he left.” 

Zayn paced the living room, trying to bounce Harriet a little, but all it did was add a waver to her cries. He fished his phone out with his free hand to check the time, just to be sure he hadn’t lost track of time in the studio, but no, it definitely was just after lunch. “Where’s Liam?” 

“Work,” Niall said, getting up to walk with Zayn, making faces over his shoulder at Harriet. 

“Where’s Becks? Why do we have the baby?” He turned, trying not to laugh at the way Niall looked with his tongue out and eyes crossed. 

“Becca didn’t come home last night,” Niall whispered, dropping the face. “Or this morning. Liam was frantic because he had to get to work and someone had to take her.” 

“What do you mean ‘she didn’t come home’?” Zayn demanded in an angry whisper, which just made Harriet cry more. “No, no, we’re not fighting, baby,” he told her, kissing her temple until she quieted some. She was still whimpering and sniffling, but the wails stopped. 

“He wouldn’t say much, just that they had a fight and Becks fucked off. My words, not his,” Niall explained, sitting back down with his guitar and playing a few chords. Now that Harriet had somewhat calmed, that worked better for really quieting her, soothing her crying and her breathing. “She wasn’t back by morning and he had to go to work.” 

“Holy shit.” 

Zayn needed to sit down. 

He wound up on the floor. Niall left him there for a moment, then came to claim the now-snoozing Harriet and put her in the cot in Zayn’s room. Then he was back with Zayn, sitting on the floor with him, no pressure to move the couch or a chair. “She just left? How could she just leave?” 

Niall wrapped his arms around Zayn’s waist, chin on his shoulder, sighing against his skin. “I have no idea.” 

“What? What are we going to do? What’s Liam going to do?” He pointed at the baby monitor sitting on the coffee table in front of them. “What’s Hattie gonna do?” 

“No idea,” Niall repeated, but this time his voice was as tired, as scared as Zayn’s was. “Don’t let…” Zayn turned before Niall could finish talking, holding Niall’s face in his hands. 

“You don’t have to say it. I’m never leaving you. No matter what. I’m not leaving. You can’t throw me out or get rid of me or any of that.” 

Niall quirked a half smile, then leaned in, pressing a kiss against Zayn’s cheekbone. “I know you aren’t.” He turned Zayn back around, holding him again, Zayn’s back against his chest and Zayn let himself focus on the steady breath against his shoulder blades and the soft snores on the baby monitor. 

He was never leaving. He was doomed, because no matter what, he’d never leave. 

\---------

Zayn had just helped set up the last of his paintings in the corner of the gallery he’d been given for the art show when the owner waved off whoever she was talking to and headed for him. “These are gorgeous,” she said, waving towards his paintings. He was supposed to be doing more abstract work, which meant he’d gotten his spray paint back, but the swirls and colors evoked more emotions than thoughts. “Seasons?” she asked, gesturing to the set as a whole. 

“Falling in love," he corrected, smiling at her. She had always appreciated his work, even if she didn’t really seem to understand it. He supposed it was possible to love art without fully understanding it.

“Falling in love. Fitting. Your boyfriend coming to see them then?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Zayn shook his head.

“Not my boyfriend,” he said, but he knew she meant Niall. He’d been at every other showing. They were still doing the mutual not-dating thing, but nothing had changed between them either. Zayn had thought something might shift at the new year, at the party the Niall's pub threw, but Niall had been busy working and Zayn had been pulled away during the whole thing by friends he hadn’t seen much of since before Harriet had been born. 

The woman in front of him nodded sagely, like she got that. “He’ll still come though, right?” 

Zayn shrugged. “Don’t see why he wouldn’t,” he said, but he forced himself not to get his hopes up about it. It would happen or it wouldn’t. It didn’t matter one way or the other. It wasn’t going to change things between them. 

She hummed, looking at the paintings then back at Zayn. “What are your plans after you graduate?”

Zayn hadn’t actually been asked that yet, though graduation was looming just a few months away. “I hadn’t thought about it much honestly. Maybe more school. This,” he said waving towards his art. 

“How do you feel about working in a gallery?” 

“What?” He looked around them, then back her. “Like here?” 

She chuckled and shook her head. “Not this one. I’m expanding to a small spot in London, something a little bit more modern, hipper really, but I need someone to help run it when I’m back and forth between the two.” She raised an eyebrow and Zayn felt the air rush out of his lungs. 

“You want me to help you run your gallery in London? You’re serious?” 

“Of course I am. You’ll be able to put your work up too, when there’s space, but I trust you’ll make good decisions as far as what should be up in the gallery. You’ll be able to help other artists like yourself get spotted,” she said, like she really needed to sell the idea. 

“Wow,” Zayn said, running a hand through his hair. “Wow. I mean thank you, of course, thank you. I...can I take some time to decide? It’s just London is…” 

“Farther away. I know. Of course you can; take some time to think about it. We won’t even be opening until spring, but I wanted to ask you before someone else came along with a different offer. I hope you’ll say yes.” She patted his shoulder then moved past him. “Have a great show, Zayn.” 

Zayn watched her go, running his hands through his hair again, leaving them tangled in it for a moment, while he went over the conversation again. That was huge. It wasn’t perfect, he’d still be working more than painting, but it was getting his art out when he could in a gallery in London. It was a paying job, which was the next best thing. He pulled out his phone to call Niall, but hesitated on the contact screen. 

Things with Niall hadn’t been the best as of late. Yes, they were as close as ever, but Niall seemed to be running hot and cold towards Zayn, some moments he was fine with laying all over Zayn and sharing the same bed, and while others he needed to be coaxed into leaning into Zayn on a crowded couch. They’d been in the more distant swing over the past few days, not spending as much time together as they normally might. Plus, wasn’t going off to London doing the exact thing Zayn had sworn he wouldn’t do? He’d said he wouldn’t leave and now here he was strongly considering it. 

Maybe Niall wasn’t the one to call. Zayn tapped his fingers along the edge of his phone before tucking it back into his pocket and fixing his tie. He’d worry about it after the show. 

\----------

“Which one?” Liam asked, holding up two shirts, one a plaid button down and one a fitted black shirt. 

“Is that one mine?” Zayn asked, pointing towards the black one from where he was sitting on Liam’s bed, legs bracketing Harriet while she made little noises at the little boat she had. It was supposed to go in the tub with her, but she’d been asking for it outside of the tub too. She made a spitty buzzing noise, which was similar to the noise Niall made when he moved it around in the tub with her. Genius caliber, that baby. 

Liam looked at the black shirt, then back at Zayn. “It might be?” he said. “Does it matter?” 

Zayn considered that then shrugged. Probably not. For having three completely different styles, they always wound up with one another’s things. “Where are you going again?” 

“The Thai place down on Westbrook? The one with the low lights and the tiny tables?” Liam said. 

“Oh and the lanterns? That place is nice!” 

“That’s what I thought. I figured…we could use the time?” Liam tugged at the collar of the plaid shirt, and Zayn nodded. He got that. They’d had a huge fight just the week before and Becca had spent two nights at her friend’s flat because she apparently couldn't even look at Liam. They definitely needed something.

Zayn was still pretty sure the something was a divorce, but Liam was _trying_ , trying so hard to make it better, to be what she wanted, and Zayn had to admire that. He could also relate to it, going along with whatever on-again, off-again lines that Niall seemed to be running against him. “Black then. Makes you look sexy. Just don’t tell her I said that.” The last thing Liam needed was Becca going into a jealous fit, again, over Zayn. 

“She knows there’s nothing going on between us,” Liam said, pulling off his old t-shirt with holes in it and replacing it with the more fitted black one. 

“She yelled at you about it two weeks ago. Then said I wasn’t allowed up here without a chaperone,” Zayn reminded Liam. “That hardly sounds like knowing there’s nothing going on between us.” 

“Well,” Liam started, but frowned like he wasn’t sure where he was going with it. “I told her there’s nothing. That I’m not...and you’re not. You wouldn’t be.” He turned to look at the mirror, trying to make his hair stand up in the little quiff he’d started wearing it in. 

“I would,” Zayn corrected. “But not with us being best friends and you being _married_.” 

“And you being in love with someone else for as long as I’ve known you.” Liam turned, leaning back against the dresser. 

Zayn didn’t meet his eyes though, twirling one of Harriet’s curls around his fingers instead. “I meant it back then, when I said I wish I could be in love with you instead. But yeah.” 

“Apparently being in love with me isn’t a picnic either,” Liam sighed softly. 

“Did she say that?” Zayn asked, not able to tell by the way Liam said it if he was thinking it or he’d heard it.

“Not really. She just said...I’m difficult.” 

Zayn felt anger spark in his chest and he was shaking his head hard enough his hair fell in his eyes. “Stop that. You aren’t. You’re wonderful. She’s difficult.” 

“Zayn. She’s my wife.” 

“So you know better than anyone what she’s like. Why Liam? Tell me why you stay with her? She spends your money, she’s never home when she should be, and she’s making you miserable. She got sacked _again_ last week and screamed at you when you suggested maybe she should act like a human being for more than two minutes just to keep a job.” 

“You don’t get it,” Liam plead softly. 

“No. I don’t. I don’t get it at all.” Zayn could hear his voice getting louder, but Liam was getting hurt. Constantly. On an almost daily basis and Zayn couldn’t stand it. It was Liam. He was the best person that Zayn knew. No one got to hurt him. 

“I love her, Zayn. I love her so much it hurts.” Liam pressed his hand against his chest. 

“That’s not love that hurts. That’s her that hurts.” 

“She’s Hattie’s mum. She’s my wife. I can make this work. I’m going to make it better. I can’t leave her. I don’t know who I am without her.” 

Zayn’s anger ebbed at that, watching Liam with wide eyes. “What do you mean you don’t know who you are? You’re Liam Payne. You’re Hattie’s dad, you’re the best person I know and you’re my best friend.”

“Your best friend lives downstairs,” Liam clarified.

“No, my best friend is you. You, Liam. Niall’s Niall. He’s different, but he’s not taking your role from you.” 

Silence stretched between them, just Harriet’s buzzing boat filling up the space until Liam was moving to sit on the bed, wrapping his arms around Zayn. “I can’t leave her for the same reasons you can’t leave him,” Liam mumbled finally. “She’s my Niall.” Zayn had to close his eyes, holding Liam a little tighter. 

If only Liam knew that Zayn was thinking about leaving. Maybe it’d give him the strength to do the same. 

\-------

Liam’s date night went great and he swore things were definitely on the mend, if not fixed, but two days later he and Becca were fighting again. Zayn got it, that Liam loved her, but he was getting his own bout of hot and cold from Niall himself and he was wondering how Liam put up with it. Zayn would wake up one morning, Niall’s arm hooked around his waist, leg thrown over Zayn’s, face pressed against Zayn’s neck, but then the next, Niall was gone before he woke up. Some nights on the couch, Niall was in his space, tucked under Zayn’s arm or head in his lap; others he sat on the other end of the couch or the armchair. 

Most of the time it left Zayn confused, but sometimes he just wanted to scream, to grab at Niall, to pull him closer and demand he make up his mind. Those were the days he considered London stronger than others. More than once he’d opened up the contact on his phone, ready to call and accept the offer, but he always talked himself out of it. Every time he thought he was sure about it, sure he was going to go, something good between them would happen. How could Zayn leave him when Niall had his arms slung dangerously low on Zayn’s waist like they belonged there at the coffee shop on a random Tuesday in full view of everyone? 

Again and again, Zayn kept making excuses, explaining away Niall’s behavior in his head, justifying everything in that they were both not-dating anyone else and whatever happened between them was them and it was how they worked. The list of excuses was the reason why he only smiled and didn’t think too much into it when his phone buzzed halfway through his studio time with a text from Niall. 

**New FIFA pre-order got here! Consider yourself challenged! Don’t be late! xxx**

Zayn tried to go back to his work, but he was too excited about a nice night together, no babysitting needed, just him and Niall, beer, pizza and FIFA. They’d been talking about it since Niall put the game on preorder months ago. He went through a few more attempts to paint before laughing at how impossibly unfocused he was. There was no point in forcing himself to keep trying when he wanted to be somewhere else and being early was definitely better than late. It took barely any time to clean up and put his things away before hoofed it home, stopping off in the corner shop to grab a sixer of beer, Niall’s favorite. 

After letting himself into the flat, he popped the beer in the fridge, surprised Niall wasn’t on the couch already playing through the game a first time. He looked back towards the door, but Niall’s bag was there, keys on the counter in the kitchen, which meant he was home. Zayn headed further into the flat, surprised to see Niall’s door closed, but that didn’t stop him from opening it. “Nialler?” 

All he saw at first was skin. A back of perfect pale skin, a few freckles here and there, but mostly just pale skin that Zayn had seen too many times. Only it was more than just a back. It was the perfect ass that went with it, bare, and, damn. Someone moaned, no, some girl moaned, and Zayn realized he’d been staring, staring at his roommate fucking someone else and hadn’t even realized he was doing it. “Shit.” He pulled back, shutting the door with him, closing his eyes, the view coming back to him immediately, seared in his mind. Zayn rested his forehead against the door. He could have stayed there watching. He really could have. He wasn’t even that kind of person, but he could have stayed and watched Niall’s ass move while he fucked someone else. 

Fuck, he was fucking other people. 

Zayn stepped back from the door, running his hand over his face. He’d been single for over a year; he’d waited. He hadn’t done anything but be Niall’s sort-of boyfriend and Niall was sleeping with other people. He wanted it to be just one other person, but he didn’t feel right getting his hopes up about that when he’d thought it was no one for so long. What if it was loads of other people? 

Was this why it was so up and down with Niall? Did he feel guilty when he was hooking up with someone else and not even telling Zayn about it? How long had it been going on? Zayn rested one hand on the wall, holding himself up for a moment before pushing away and heading for the door as quietly as he could. Liam would be home, it was late enough and he didn’t work tonight. 

When Liam opened the door, Zayn guessed he looked almost as awful as he felt. He’d been shocked before, but as every moment ticked away after, he felt sick. He’d put so much time, so much effort into Niall, thinking they were on the same page without talking about it and he realized belatedly that he needed to talk to him about it. He should have said something, should have figured out if all the stolen moments, the touches, the attention, if it all meant the same thing to Niall as it had to Zayn.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked, holding the door open for Zayn to come inside. 

“Niall’s got...company.” Zayn tried to say it in a way that didn’t sound like Niall had that sort of company and that Zayn’s heart was breaking, but the words got caught in his throat and before he could lie and say things were fine, Liam had him wrapped up in a bear hug. 

“Zayn,” Liam started but Zayn shook his head. 

“Just need to not be down there for a little while. Until he’s done,” Zayn mumbled into Liam’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of baby powder, coffee, and Liam that was as comforting as it got. 

“You can talk to me.” 

“Don’t want to talk,” Zayn said, pulling back, wiping at his eyes though he hadn’t started crying. He felt like he should, but at the same time, he was still in too much shock.

Liam was quiet for a moment, like he wanted to push the issue, but for once he didn’t. “Hattie could use someone to play with her blocks with her,” he suggested instead and Zayn nodded. “She’s in the living room. Helps out, I can make dinner before Becks gets home without her underfoot.” 

That was a much better alternative to talking about what he was feeling so Zayn headed that way, ignoring the way Liam was looking at him. He focused on Harriet instead, sitting on the floor with her and her mat, letting himself smile when she lit up at the sight of him. Zayn waited until he heard Liam in the kitchen before taking out his phone and dialling the gallery. It took a moment to get connected to the owner and he spent it dangling his keys in front of Harriet watching her giggle and coo at the game. 

“Zayn? Good to hear from you. Hopefully it’s good news?” she said when she picked up and he could hear the smile in her voice and it made him feel better about the decision. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. I’ll take the job.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we're all going through so much at the moment, but don't worry. We're not done here. Sorry for the slower post, but I'm still writing. We'll finish the story and get it to a happy ending. 
> 
> <3

It was nice to do a proper, all three of them FIFA night again, but Zayn had decided fifteen minutes in that it was a bad idea. Liam was busy pretending the reason he and Harriet had the flat to themselves wasn’t because Becca had yelled at him again and left for who knew how long. Maybe they wouldn’t have guessed, but he was jostling his knee and kept looking at the door like he expected someone well after the pizza had been delivered. Niall was kicking ass at the game, showing Zayn how to play better, and mostly just sitting in Zayn’s space, like he wasn’t busy having sex with other people when he wasn’t in Zayn’s line of sight. And Zayn was playing like he hadn’t just made the biggest decision of his life that would have him leaving his best friends behind in just a few weeks. 

If they gave Olympic medals for lying, it would be a dead sprint between the three of them to see who would win. 

At least Harriet seemed amused by the game on the television and by having her uncles and father close by whenever she reached for them. She was pulling up on her own now, holding on to the coffee table and trying to steal Niall’s pizza or smacking the table any time someone shouted at the game. Zayn envied her. He wanted to be blissfully unaware of everything that everyone was lying about. 

He wanted to not be lying himself. 

And he knew he should tell his friends, but he’d accepted the job because he had to make himself done with Niall, he had to put the space between them. He just hadn’t figured out how to tell Niall. Or Liam. Liam who seemed like he needed Zayn now more than ever. When his biggest pro for leaving was to get space from Niall, spilling the truth seemed like opening a giant can of worms that Zayn wasn’t ready to deal with. 

Someone knocked on the door and Liam jumped up, grinning and shaking his head as he grabbed the knob. “Forgot your keys?” he asked, but Zayn watched his shoulders bunch up when he realized it wasn’t Becca on the other side of the door. 

“Are you Liam Payne?” 

Niall hit pause on the game and shifted away from where he’d been leaning against Zayn’s knee to grab Harriet. Zayn got up, sure that nothing but bad news came with that sort of start. 

“I am,” Liam said, and the waver in his voice said he knew the same thing. 

“Good. These are for you,” the messenger said, handing Liam a hefty manila envelope then a clipboard. 

“I need to check your ID then have you sign for them.” Liam fished his wallet out of his pocket, handing over his ID then signed for the papers and gave the messenger back his clipboard. The messenger murmured a clipped ‘cheers’ and was off, leaving Liam staring at the envelope. 

“What is it?” Zayn asked when Liam didn’t say anything as he closed the door. 

“Not sure,” Liam said, wandering back to the couch to open the packet. “It’s addressed from the courts, but I can’t see what would be…” He trailed off as he read the first page of the stack of papers, eyes wide, mouth open. 

“Li?” Niall asked, but when Liam didn’t answer, Zayn shifted closer, looking over Liam’s shoulder. It just seemed like legal documents until Zayn read it, and there in the title was the explanation. Becca had served Liam papers to file for divorce. Liam kept reading quickly, skimming it, flipping through the pages, shoulders sinking more with each new page.

“Li,” Zayn started, but Liam shook his head before handing over the papers. 

“Here,” he breathed softly, holding his hands out for his daughter. Niall gave her up and Harriet, who’d been squirmy a few moments earlier, settled in his lap, holding her father’s fingers like she realized he needed her right there. 

Niall pushed up to sit on the couch, and Zayn moved the papers between them so they could read them together. She’d filed for divorce, the main reason being stated as irreconcilable differences, which had a note that they were listed on another page. Zayn flipped a few pages into the packet to find the appendix with her list of reasons and felt his jaw drop. Two and a half pages, bullet pointed reasons why Becca wanted a divorce and they ranged from thinking Liam was lying to her about the money they didn’t have because she’d found the bracelet he’d bought her for their anniversary, but never given to her, to being sure that he was having an affair with his best friend, to him no longer being the man she’d fallen in love with. Line upon line of shortcomings that Liam had, most of which weren’t true and the ones that might be slightly true had been twisted the wrong way. 

“I probably deserved it,” Liam said finally, swallowing hard and holding Harriet against him. “I could have been better.” Zayn abandoned his reading and reached for Liam instead, drawing him into a side hug. 

“No, you couldn’t have. You were the best there was. You couldn’t have been any better.” Anyone that thought otherwise was wrong. Becca was wrong. Zayn had wanted this, Liam to cut ties with her, but he’d wanted Liam to decide to do it, not Becca. 

“I pushed her too hard. I should have understood when she wasn’t ready to work or go back to school and I kept pushing because I wanted so much for her.” Liam hid his face in his daughter’s hair. “I’ve ruined her life. I’ve ruined Hattie’s life.” 

Zayn squeezed tighter, looking over at Niall, who was still reading, hoping there was something they could do. 

“What if they take her away,” Liam whispered, arms going taught like it was taking everything in him not to clench too hard around his daughter. “Little girls should be with their mothers, shouldn’t they?” Liam’s eyes found Zayn’s and Zayn wished he had an answer. Maybe they should, but how could someone give Harriet to Becca and not Liam? Why would someone ever separate them?

 

“They won’t,” Niall said, looking up at both of them, waving the papers. “They won’t take her.” 

“What?” Zayn and Liam said it at the same time, Liam reaching for the papers so he could see it himself. 

“She doesn’t…” Niall stopped, looking at Harriet then started again. “She’s giving up custody and the flat if you’ll sign it without protest,” he said. “So you can keep her.” 

Liam nodded, reading through the papers himself. “But I can’t even fight for Becca,” he said softly. 

Zayn opened his mouth to protest, to say that she didn’t deserve fighting for if she was going to present a list of lies as reasons why they couldn’t work, when what Liam was actually saying dawned on him. Becca had given him a choice, fighting for her, pushing her to take it back and maybe failing, or keeping Harriet, no questions asked. Liam had to choose between his daughter and the woman he loved. “Li,” Zayn started but Liam cut him off, setting the papers away and standing up with Harriet. 

“I’m gonna call it a night,” he announced, holding Harriet against him. Zayn had seen Liam do that before, curl in on himself and Harriet like the could salvage a terrible evening by focusing on taking care of her, but at least Liam wasn’t faking a smile like he had the last time. His lie had been exposed and Zayn figured it was only a matter of time before his and Niall’s were too. 

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Zayn said, nodding and getting up as well. “Want me to clean up?” he offered, but Liam shook his head. 

“We got it,” he said, smiling when Harriet patted at his face with a bright smile. “Time to tell your uncles 'night night',” he told her and she giggled more, pushing at his face, like she could force the smile she loved out of him with her hands alone. Zayn went to them both, dropping a kiss on Harriet’s head then pressing one against Liam’s cheek. 

“It’s gonna be okay, you know that, right? We’ll make it okay.” 

Liam sighed and nodded. “I hope so.” 

Zayn wanted to offer to stay again, but Niall had his hand, pulling him away from Liam and while Zayn knew his friend needed his space, it hurt to leave. Later that night, Niall went to bed with Zayn, curling up close to him and holding him as tightly as Liam had held on to Harriet, like something might pull Zayn away from him. 

It only made Zayn feel worse. 

\----------------

Zayn let himself into Liam’s flat like he did most Tuesday evenings, because Tuesday was his night to sit with Harriet while Liam worked the night shift. Liam had moved his work schedule around when Becca moved out, working more in the evenings and nights because that was when Zayn and Niall could help with the most with the baby. 

He set his bag down by the door, about to call out for Liam when he heard voices in the kitchen and headed that way instead, not sure who Liam would have over so close to when his shift started at the coffee shop. 

“You should have called sooner, son. That’s all I’m saying.” The voice was an older man, but familiar. Liam’s father. Zayn had no idea he was coming into town. They’d been involved and excited about their grandbaby and daughter-in-law after Liam finally told them, too worried about disappointing them to tell them right away, but Manchester was still a haul from Wolverhampton. Plus, with how unpredictable Becca’s moods could be, Zayn had understood not wanting to subject his parents to that side of her. 

"I thought I could handle it." Liam's voice was soft, defeated sounding. 

"But you didn't have to, honey. That's what we're here for." Liam's mother, her voice watery like she'd been crying or might still be. 

Zayn peeked his head into the kitchen, not liking the sight there. Liam was leaning against the counter in a suit Zayn hadn't seen before, tie loosened and his hair falling from what it had been styled into like he'd been running his hands through it. His father had his hand on Liam's shoulder, patting gently. He was dressed up too, same with Liam's mother. She had Harriet in her high chair, feeding her pieces of fruit. It was Harriet that noticed Zayn in the doorway, shrieking the noise they'd guessed was closest to his name and holding out her hands for him. Everyone seemed to jump, surprised to see Zayn waving from the doorway. 

"Zayn, love. Didn't know you were here," Liam's mum said, reaching for Zayn to pull him into a hug. She'd always been nice to him, always hugging and bringing them food when she visited. Zayn had always felt like she made a nice surrogate mother for when he couldn't see his own. 

“Hey, Mrs. Payne,” Zayn greeted but before he could explain his presence, Liam was apologizing. 

“I forgot, it’s Tuesday. I took the day, I should have texted you, I’m sorry.” The words were tumbling out of his mouth and it was more than clear that Liam was frazzled. 

“Hey, hey, mate. It’s fine,” Zayn said, slipping out of Liam’s mother’s hold and gripping Liam’s arm, trying to be a solid presence for his friend. “What’s going on?” 

Liam heaved a sigh, leaning into Zayn a little more. “Had to be in court today, to go over the paperwork.”

Zayn looked at Liam’s parents and realized that was why they’d been called down, to vouch for Liam if he needed them, to be there for him if he needed it. Zayn wrapped his arms around Liam’s middle, not caring that it was a touch too familiar for in front of parents. It was Liam, who just had to go to court to admit to strangers that his marriage had fallen apart. That the list of things that Becca had said about him, that he was domineering and controlling, that he’d pushed her into the marriage and being a parent in the first place, that all of it was something he agreed with so he could keep his daughter. “How’d it go?” Zayn asked, hoping Liam knew he meant beyond awful. Zayn got that it had been terrible, but he wanted to make sure there weren’t going to be any added complications to the process. 

“Fine enough,” Liam said, wrapping Zayn up in his arms and holding on to him, clearly not caring that his parents were squished into the tiny kitchen too. “Like expected. Shouldn’t be any issues.” 

Good. Well, not really good, but good that Liam didn’t have to suffer any more on top of what he was already going through. 

“Sweetie,” Liam’s mother interrupted, enough for Liam to pull back from Zayn, putting almost a full step between them. Zayn was amazed a how cold he felt without Liam close to him. 

“Sorry, Mum, I-” 

His mother cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I was going to say that your father and I would love to clean Hattie up then put her down for a nap, if you and Zayn want to talk some.” Liam looked ready to protest, but his parents already had his daughter and were leaving the kitchen. Zayn rubbed Liam’s arm gently.

“I can make tea,” he suggested, but Liam shook his head, reaching past Zayn to the cabinet over the stove, pulling out a whiskey bottle and setting it on the table.

“We need something stronger.” 

Zayn huffed a laugh and grabbed two mugs, pouring them each a little before sitting across from Liam at the tiny table. “So what’s going on?” Zayn prompted as Liam stared at the bottom of his mug. Normally, he might wait, he might give Liam the time to come out with it, but that prompt from Liam’s mother had Zayn thinking there was more to talk about than just how court went today. 

“She looked great today. In court. Like… just gorgeous.” Liam ran his hand over his face. “And all I could think when I saw her was how much in love with her I was and how much she didn’t love me back.” He looked at Zayn and shook his head. “I’m never going to feel that way again. And my baby lost her mother because I couldn’t do it right.” Zayn reached across the table, holding on to Liam’s arm, watching his best friend take a deep breath before continuing. “We’re gonna move,” he said softly. “I asked that in court today, if it would be alright, but it won’t be an issue, though I’ll have to come down here for appearances, but yeah.”

Liam looked up at Zayn, all big brown eyes, and he looked just like he had when Zayn walked into their dorm room the first day of uni, scared and alone. Zayn gripped his arm harder, not wanting Liam to feel alone at all. “So you’re going home?” 

Liam nodded, sighing a little. “Yeah, for now. My parents can put me up, dad’s going to give me a job in his shop, we’ll move everything home.” His voice broke a little, tears brimming those big eyes and Zayn got up, moving around the table to hold on to Liam from from behind. “I don’t want to go, but I can’t,” Liam continued after a moment. “I couldn’t afford it before and now…” 

Zayn shook his head, pressing as close to Liam as he could get. “Don’t. Don’t do that. I suggested it, remember? If you have to go, you have to go. We’ll help you move. When do you leave?” 

Liam was quiet, obviously focusing on his breathing for a long moment before he spoke again. “Two weeks.” 

Two weeks. The term only had four left, but two weeks seemed so soon. Zayn hugged Liam tighter, thinking of the little world they’d made for themselves here: Harriet’s room with the her mural on the wall, schedules that synced up to take care of Liam and his daughter. All of it, and it was about to go away. It hurt to watch it all go, which didn’t make sense considering Zayn was planning his own exodus, but he supposed he hadn’t done much thinking about the leaving part and what it meant. 

He took a deep breath and nodded against Liam’s head. “Two weeks. Okay. We can do this. It’s all gonna be okay.” 

Liam’s shuddered through a sigh and he nodded as well. “I hope so.” Zayn understood the hesitation, why he wasn’t sure, but Zayn was determined to make sure it worked out for the best, that everything was going to be okay. It had to be. 

\----------

It took a lot less time than Zayn thought it would to pack up the flat, everything fitting into a few boxes and suitcases that they loaded up the van that Liam’s father rented and Niall’s car. Zayn watched as Liam lingered in the flat, taking it all in before he shut the door for the last time. The drive to Wolverhampton wasn’t terribly long, two hours that Niall and Zayn managed to pass quickly enough with flipping through the radio. It meant they could avoid talking about what they were doing and what was packed in the car with them, boxes of Harriet’s toys that had been living in their flat and the portable cot that hadn’t left Zayn’s room for almost a year loaded in the back seat. It was as if they talked about it, it had to be real, Liam was really leaving them and Zayn knew, it meant admitting he was leaving as well. Every time he’d helped Niall carry something down to the car, Zayn had almost brought it up. Telling Niall about moving had been resting on the tip of his tongue for hours, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not yet. 

When they pulled up to the house, Zayn frowned, leaning forward to look out the window. There were balloons tied to the front gate, and cars parked in the drive and the street. “What’s going on?” Zayn asked Niall, who just shrugged, getting out of the car once it was parked. Liam got out of the van as well, grabbing Harriet out of her carseat and staring at his father.

“There you are!” Liam’s mother was at the door, waving. “Come on, unpacking can wait a little bit,” she said holding her hands out for Harriet. “There’s a birthday to celebrate.” Liam handed Harriet over, frowning at his mother now. “I know love, we’re a week early, but I thought we should celebrate when everyone was here,” she said without giving Liam a chance to ask and waving behind Liam to Zayn and Niall. “Now, hurry up, come on in, the party’s waiting on the princess.” 

Zayn caught up with Liam, pressing one hand on his lower back to get his stunned friend to move. “Did she…” Liam said, looking inside. The small house was decorated in pink streamers and more balloons, with people whom Zayn assumed were family and friends. A woman a little older than them called out to Liam, headed his way, and she looked enough like Liam that Zayn guessed she was one of his sisters. 

“I think she did, mate,” Zayn said, smiling and patting Liam’s shoulder. His mother had thrown Harriet a first birthday party, something Liam had mentioned the week before, worried it would be overshadowed with the move or a quiet event, and his mother had gone all out to make sure Harriet had a party even if she might not remember it.

Liam was whisked away not long after getting through the door, same with Harriet, but Zayn and Niall got pulled into conversations, handed drinks and offered snacks. Everyone seemed to know who they were, Liam’s friends from uni who had been a big part of Harriet’s life. It put a lighter tone to the whole move, reassuring Zayn that even though he and Niall wouldn’t be there, Harriet was in good hands. 

Harriet was the star of the hour, Liam’s mother setting a tiny cake in front of her to smash and cram into her face. Zayn couldn’t help but snap pictures on his phone, even more pleased when Harriet smeared a cake and icing covered hand on Liam’s face, trying to share it with him. That got the room laughing and even Liam was smiling, kissing his messy daughter and looking like the proudest dad there was. 

There were gifts as well, toys and new clothes, things from Liam’s family and their friends. It was more than the three of them could have put together in Liam’s tiny flat, and every gift was nicer than the second hand things Harriet already had or they could have given her. Everyone cheered as Harriet pushed a new car around the living room, crawling after it.. Liam had been sitting on the floor with her, but the moment Harriet was safe with her aunt and grandmother, Zayn caught him sneaking away. After nudging Niall to follow him, they found Liam in the small garden behind his parents' house. 

“Li?” 

Liam spun, surprised, but his shoulders eased slightly at the sight of his friends. “Hey, sorry, just needed some air.” Zayn nodded, fishing out a cigarette from his pocket and handing it to Liam, who shook his head. Zayn shrugged and lit it for himself, watching Niall wander around the garden, taking in Liam’s mother’s vegetable plants, before looking at Liam. He didn’t say anything, just watched his best friend, waiting on him to speak first knowing he needed the time. 

“I can’t believe they did all of this,” Liam blurted finally, wrapping his arms around himself. 

Zayn looked over at him, frowning a touch. “They’re her grandparents. I’m not surprised really,” he said softly. 

Liam nodded. “I couldn’t have done all of this. I couldn’t have done half of this.” Zayn watched his friend look nothing but completely gutted, like he’d failed everything. He rested his hand on Liam’s arm, catching Niall’s eye enough to get him to come back their way. “I couldn’t have done anything.” 

Niall was there when Zayn wrapped his arms around Liam, hugging him from the other side, helping Zayn hold him up when Liam finally broke. “I messed everything up,” Liam said, voice wavering with tears he was holding back. “I just wanted to give them everything and I can’t give them anything. I can’t even give her her own home. I’ve got nothing and I can’t give her anything. I ran her mother off and now she’s left with just me and I’m not good enough.” 

“Not true,” Zayn said, shaking his head. “You brought her here. She’s safe here. You two can get back on your feet and she’ll have family here. You’ll get better. Liam, she’s got you. That’s all she’s never needed.” He held his best friend tighter, not at all surprised when Niall’s hand found its way into his.

Liam’s breath hitched and the three of them huddled in closer. It reminded Zayn of when Liam got his heart broken the first time and he realized that he never wanted that for Liam ever again. Liam deserved to be happy all the time. “Why do you two stick with me?” Liam asked once he seemed to have the tears under control, his head resting against Niall’s, his hand gripping Zayn’s arm. 

“Because we need you,” Niall said, kissing Liam’s cheek. “You make us whole. We didn’t know we needed you until we found you.” 

“And now I’ve left you.” Zayn felt that like a slash through his heart even though Liam had no way of knowing that it was exactly what he’d been thinking for the past few hours.

“It’s not like Manchester’s all that far,” Niall said, shaking his head and Zayn felt his heart break into a thousand pieces. He couldn’t keep lying. 

“Or London.” 

Zayn was close enough to his best friends to feel them both go still, heads turning towards him. “What?” Liam asked. 

“Or London. I’m going to London,” Zayn said softly. “I got a job offer and I took it.” He looked up at them, feeling Niall’s hand slip from his. 

“When?” Liam’s voice pitched up, obviously concerned. 

“A few weeks? Just after term ends. I’m going to be working at a gallery.” He couldn’t look at Niall, unable to see how he reacted to what he was saying. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that. It didn’t help that Niall was staying alarmingly silent. 

“You didn’t say anything about that.” 

Zayn shrugged. “We had a lot going on.” 

“You moving to London seems like enough to bring up,” Liam said, but the words didn’t carry any bite, just curiosity. “Is it a good job?” 

“It’s a pretty damn great job,” Zayn said with a tiny smile, feeling better when Liam smiled back and hugged him tight. 

“Good then,” Liam said, holding Zayn’s shoulders. “I’m happy for you. I knew you could do it. Right, Nialler?” 

Zayn looked at his friend then, seeing the way the smile had left Niall’s face, the smile that never left, was gone from his blue eyes. He didn’t look mad, he just looked blank, which was strange for Niall. He always had some sort of emotion on his features, but for a moment, he was a blank slate, nothing until he shook himself out of it, smiling and nodding. 

“How about I get you a beer and you stop the talk about feeling like you aren’t good enough?” he asked Liam, pointedly not looking at Zayn or offering him another beer.

Liam took a deep breath and nodded, letting Niall head into the house ahead of Liam and Zayn. “You didn’t tell him,” Liam said softly. 

“I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to say it.”

“You’re leaving him, that’s why you’re going.” 

Zayn tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded, though given the way Liam hadn’t worded it as a questions, it was obvious he didn’t need the affirmation. He already knew. “Yeah, that’s a lot of it.” He hated admitting it, but it was true. That was a huge reason why he was leaving. Just as Zayn was starting to feel weighed down by the guilt, by that look that Niall had had on his face, a familiar weight landed on his shoulders, Liam pulling him closer. 

“Promise we’ll be okay?” 

Zayn wrapped his arm around Zayn’s waist. “Yes. We have to be.” 

\----------

The car ride home was almost silent, tension thick between Zayn and Niall, and every time Zayn looked across the center console at his friend, Niall was zoned in on the road ahead of them, fingers tapping on the wheel, but not to the music playing. It was more of a nervous twitch, which made Zayn anxious, worrying his lip and hoping Niall didn’t blow up at him for not telling him about London. He’d never actually seen Niall angry and wasn’t sure he wanted to now. 

It was raining by the time they’d gotten back to the city, but it just seemed to fit the tone in the car. Once they were home, Niall stayed quiet as he helped carry in the food that Liam’s parents had sent them home with. He waited while Zayn loaded it into the fridge, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen. When Zayn finished, Niall gave him enough space to pass, but followed him back towards his room, lingering just outside the door, as if he wasn’t sure if he was invited in or not. 

“What?” Zayn asked finally, turning to look at Niall unable to shake the defated tone in his voice. He couldn’t handle the silence, the way Niall was just trailing behind him like there was something that needed to be said, but it wasn’t being said. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to fight about it, but it would seem not fighting about it was far worse. 

“You’re really leaving?” Niall still looked blank, but he didn’t sound it, his voice catching slightly on the last word, trailing off so it felt less like a question and more like a plea. 

Zayn hated it, hated the way it ate at him, but he nodded nonetheless. “I gotta, Ni,” he whispered, not able to keep looking at that blank face, that lack of emotion. He just hoped Niall didn’t ask him why because Zayn wasn’t sure he could bring himself to admit the truth and, even if he could, he wasn’t sure what would happen as a result. 

He’d thought that Niall would say something, maybe yell and blow up like he seemed like he might do in the car before, or tell Zayn to go, good riddance. A secret part of Zayn wanted Niall to ask him to stay, to beg him not to leave, not now, but Niall didn’t do any of that. 

Before Zayn had a chance to react, Niall was closer, well inside his personal space, fingers drawing Zayn’s chin up so he wasn’t looking at the floor and then Niall was kissing him. It was tentative at first, hesitant, but when Zayn didn’t jerk away, Niall kissed him with the same surety he had in the bathroom ages ago. When he licked his way into Zayn’s mouth, Zayn groaned, fingers twisting into Niall’s blonde hair. Niall’s hands found their way onto his hips, pushing Zayn back half a step and that was enough to shake Zayn from what they were doing, pulling back enough to break the kiss off. 

“Ni,” he plead softly, not sure what else to say or how else to say it. He didn’t want to stop, but he couldn’t do this, could he? His mind was reeling, torn between knowing better, knowing that he had no idea what was going on between them, and it being Niall. Niall kissing him. Niall wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t confused. He was just there, the two of them alone, close together, in their flat. But why now? “Ni. What…” 

“You’re leaving,” Niall said, running his fingers along Zayn’s jaw, thumb on his other hand pressing against that stupid heart tattoo hidden under Zayn’s t-shirt. “I might not…” Niall’s eyes darted up and Zayn saw it, pain and fear in those bright blue eyes that he loved so much. “Please?” 

Zayn knew he should say no. He should say there was no way this was happening, no way it should happen, but how could he do that? How could he say that he didn’t want exactly what was in front of him? 

“Yeah,” Zayn murmured, but he could hear the hesitation in his voice. Shaking his head, he cupped Niall’s cheeks, pulling him closer again, kissing him lightly. “Yeah.” 

Niall was right. He was leaving. When would they get another chance? Zayn kissed Niall again, harder this time, using his slight height advantage to deepen the kiss and take control of the moment. Niall sighed against him and Zayn was sure he was going to die, right here, in his room with Niall’s tongue tracing his lower lip and his fingers hooking in his jeans. 

They stumbled back a few steps before Zayn’s knees banged into his bed and he fell back, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking up at Niall. His cheeks were flushed pink, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, but Zayn didn’t want him to catch his breath. He didn’t want any part of them to slow down. He pulled at Niall’s shirt, dragging him down to Zayn’s level, but Niall went farther, winding up on his knees in front of him, looking up at Zayn through lashes that Niall never got enough credit for. He was hesitant in putting his hands on Zayn’s jeans, pulling at his belt. “Can I?” Niall asked, voice a harsh whisper. 

“Yeah,” Zayn breathed, nodding, shifting his hips so that Niall could undo his jeans. “God, fuck yes, of course.” He wasn’t even sure if Niall knew what he was doing, didn’t want to think about him with some other guy or anyone else for that matter, but like hell he was going to say no to that. 

It was a little bit of an awkward scramble to get Zayn out of his jeans, tossing his shirt over his head as well, but Niall hesitated, eyes glassy, taking in the sight of Zayn naked, features etched with concern. Zayn reached for him, cupping his cheeks again and pulling him in for a kiss. “You don’t have to,” he reminded Niall, but Niall shook his head, kissing Zayn more before letting him go. 

“I want to. You’re just...fuck, you’re gorgeous.” 

Zayn felt his own cheeks heat up at the idea and had something else to say, but Niall went for it then, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, sucking down the rest. Niall was inexperienced, something Zayn realized with relief, but his mouth was hot and wet and when Zayn looked down, it was Niall’s lips, the ones usually curled up in some sort of smile that had made Zayn’s heart flip over for ages, that were wrapped around him, stretched wide and red. It was more than enough to leave Zayn swearing. That got a happy little hum out of Niall, something that felt even better, and Zayn could feel his muscles twitch in response. 

Just like the first time, when Niall had cornered him in the bathroom, Zayn felt it all rise up in him too quickly. It was fucking Niall, Niall with his mouth around Zayn, Niall looking like he liked it, like he wanted it. It gave Zayn a heady feeling and when Niall started moving his hand on Zayn, wanking him slowly, Zayn found himself choking out a warning much sooner than he should have. Niall pulled back, moving his hand faster until Zayn was coming hot in his hand, groaning loudly, whispering Niall’s name as he came back down from it. 

Then he was dragging Niall up to kiss him, loving the way that Niall tasted like him. He grinned against Zayn’s lips and for the first time, Zayn could kiss that smile, that beautiful smile, that meant so much to him. They fell back against the bed, Niall’s hips canting down against Zayn’s, making him gasp from the sensitivity. He pushed at Niall’s shirt, coaxing him to take it off, then went for his jeans, wrapping his hand around Niall before he managed to get properly out of his shirt. It was an amazing thing, Niall hard from being with Zayn, from sucking him off, and groaning over Zayn, hands scrambling to hold himself up. 

Niall’s flush cheeks, the way his accent went thicker, the way he swore when Zayn twisted his wrist just slightly, before wanking him. Zayn got what he wanted, Niall moaning his name, sheets twisting under his fingers. It wasn’t long, it only took a few minutes and Niall was coming with a shout. Zayn worked him through it, only pulling back when Niall started to shudder. Then Niall was falling against him, half on him half on the bed, face buried in Zayn’s shoulder. 

“Fucking fuck.” Zayn had to laugh at that, carding his fingers through Niall’s hair making him shiver a little.

“Yeah?”

Niall pushed himself up on one elbow, looking at Zayn. “Yeah.” He leaned in and kissed Zayn, something sweet and lingering before he settled more, head on Zayn’s shoulder. “Can I stay?” It was a quiet question, barely a whisper, but paired with fingers brushing against the heart tattoo on Zayn’s hip. 

“You know you don’t have to ask, babe,” Zayn said, just as softly. He should get them both cleaned up, do more than just lay tangled up in Niall’s arms, but it was warm and comfortable and moving seemed like a terrible idea. 

“I think I do.” It was mumbled into Zayn’s shoulder, voice thicker with sleep. He was already starting to drift, fingers slowing where he’d been tracing the outline of Zayn’s tattoo. 

“You don’t.” Zayn closed his eyes, trying to will sleep to come to him, to slow the racing of his heart. He should be tired after a long day of moving Liam home, the party, then this, but while Niall drifted off to sleep, Zayn couldn’t seem to quiet his mind. When Niall rolled over, curling on his side away from Zayn, Zayn didn’t follow after him. Instead, he stared at the expanse of pale skin next to him, the way the sheet hung low on his hips, everything Zayn had ever wanted and he’d finally gotten it. It had required threatening to take it away and finally, _finally_ , Niall had given it to him. 

But something still didn’t feel right. Zayn ghosted his fingers down Niall’s spine, watching his friend shiver in his sleep and tried to put his finger on what was missing, what was keeping him awake when he should be sleeping soundly. Zayn had to play through the whole interaction twice to put his finger on it and when he did, it had him rolling onto his back, hands twisted in his own hair, staring at the ceiling. 

Niall hadn’t asked him not to go. 

Niall hadn’t offered to go with him. Niall hadn’t done anything of the sort. Niall had just asked, asked if it could happen, pointed out that Zayn was leaving, and implied he might not get another chance. It wasn’t the start of something new, it was _goodbye_. One last shot, one night together, one memory. In a few weeks, Zayn would finish his course and he’d leave and this was Niall’s way of drawing their story to a close without any regrets. 

The realization settled hard in Zayn’s stomach, making his breath short with the ache in his chest. He looked at Niall once more, shoulders rising and falling in his sleep, and Zayn couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stay where he was, he couldn’t wait for the inevitable. It was ending and he couldn’t wake up tomorrow hoping Niall was there and what it meant if he was.

Zayn was out of the bed before he could stop himself, grabbing clothes off his floor and only stopping at the bathroom long enough to clean himself up before leaving the flat. He had a keycard that got him into the studio at any hour and he’d laid awake long enough that sunrise was only a few hours away. He could work through the feeling, not of regret, but of sadness, that he’d had something so great, that they were just as great together as he wanted them to be, and knew it was the last time he would get the chance.


	14. Chapter 14

Zayn took a break from compiling his final portfolio to watch the video of Harriet that Liam had sent him, her playing with some of the toys from her birthday, sitting happily in Liam’s parents’ living room, looking healthier and happier than she had in weeks. It was a welcome distraction from the work, that seemed to be mostly busy work, going through the giant stack of sketchbooks and portfolios he’d gathered over four years of school, trying to find the best pieces to showcase his progression as an artist. His degree was down to days and hours away and they seemed determined to bowl him over with busy work to make sure he truly appreciated it when they gave it to him. He dialled Liam’s number after watching it through the second time, not at all surprised when Liam picked up before the second ring. 

“She’s adorable,” Zayn said without any greeting, pleased to hear Liam laugh on the other side of the line. 

“I’ll keep sending them,” he said, then put his hand over the phone to talk to someone that wasn’t Zayn. Once he was back, Zayn could hear shuffling and a door opening and closing before Liam spoke again.

“Don’t do that, It makes me miss her too much,” Zayn said hating the ache in his chest at the idea of his best friend and niece being so far away. It was better for them, Zayn knew that, but as much as he knew Liam needed the support of his parents, he missed having both of them close. They’d been gone a week at best, but after going from seeing them every day to not at all, it felt like they’d been gone years already.

“She misses you too,” Liam said softly and Zayn’s heart clenched more. 

“You have to send me more, every little thing she does okay?” Zayn hated the tiny hitch in his voice, the way it faltered when he was trying to be calm. 

Liam laughed, but there wasn’t all that much mirth in it. “I can do that.” There was a pause all Zayn could hear was Liam breathing, but it felt too much like their normal sort of silences that he didn’t feel a need to fill it. When Liam spoke again his voice was steady, but Zayn was pretty sure the pause was to get it to steady. “I miss you.” 

Zayn sighed, sitting on his bed next his latest pile of sketchbooks. “I miss you too, Li. How’s home?” 

“Great,” Liam said too quickly then stopped himself, which had Zayn guessing he realized how unconvincing that sounded. “It’s good,” he said at a normal pace. “Better than I thought. I feel like a freeloader, but mum loves sitting with Harriet and dad got me a job at his shop. Nothing fancy, but I can work good hours and still be home with her. Been trying figure out a plan to save some money to get a flat of our own.” 

Zayn hated that Liam sounded disappointed in himself, despite how much easier his life sounded now that he’d gone home. That wasn’t even going into the fact that Liam had been at his new job less than a week and was already putting a plan in place to start saving money. He was miles ahead of anyone else and Liam still sounded like he thought of himself as a failure. Zayn hated that he couldn’t see how great a of a person he really was. “That’s good though. How are you doing?” 

Liam sighed heavily then shifted enough that the phone made a noise and Zayn guessed he shrugged. “Dunno. I miss her. I miss you and Nialler. I feel like a burden even though they swear I’m not, but I don’t want to drag them down any more. I feel lost.” 

Zayn nodded before he realized Liam wasn’t there to see him. “You aren’t lost, promise. You’re home. Where you belong. And you aren’t a burden because they love you and they love Hattie, but it’s okay to feel that way. You’ll get better.” 

“Somewhere in between working and being a single dad? I don’t think better’s in the cards.” Liam was always one for being self deprecating, but Zayn could tell by the tone of his voice that he believed it. He thought he was done for sure. “How’s Niall? He seemed upset when you left.” 

“Better isn’t out of the cards. You’ll get there.” Zayn peeked out of his room checking for Niall before answering the question. “He was upset that I’m leaving and he didn’t know.” 

“Did you talk to him about it?” Liam sounded hopeful, which made the ache in Zayn’s chest that hadn’t gone away since he’d snuck out of his own bed hurt more. 

“Not really. We…” How was he supposed to say that? What was he supposed to say?

“What?” 

Zayn sighed and shook his head. “We hooked up. He came into my room and he kissed me and he wanted to and I couldn’t say no even though I should have and...we did.” 

A pin could have been heard drop on the line for a full minute before Liam apparently found his voice and could speak again and when he did he sounded thrilled. “You hooked up! Did you...are you still? Oh my god, _finally_.” 

Zayn felt that ache turn into a sharper pain and shook his head even though Liam couldn’t see him. “No, not finally. I mean yeah, finally, but not like that.” He looked at the ceiling, blinking back tears. He hadn’t cried over it. Not yet. Not until he was well away and safe from his own feelings. He had a feeling there would be a massive breakdown once he had moved to London. “He didn’t ask me to stay or say he wanted to come with me. None of that. We just were together, it was great and he’s gonna let me go.” 

“Did he say that?” Liam asked. 

“He didn’t say otherwise.” 

“I don’t think that means everything,” Liam said, edge of hopefulness in his voice and Zayn hated himself for putting it there. Liam’s wife had left him doubting love and Zayn wasn’t surprised that Liam was hanging his hope on Zayn and Niall, but it made Zayn feel worse that things with Niall were over. He’d spent the first day in the studio, half working and half just flipping through pictures on his phone, hating that it was so obvious how much bigger Niall’s smile was in photos with Zayn. They’d been best friends forever, beyond close, and now Zayn was leaving it all behind. 

“It’s been three days, Liam,” Zayn said softly. “If something, if anything was going to happen, it would have happened.” 

Zayn heard Liam sigh on his end and he hated the sensation that he was letting his friend down. “Have you talked to him?” 

“Not about that, it hasn’t come up yet.” 

 

“Did you bring it up?” 

“No. He’s been busy with his final recital and I just finished my last major project and now I’m working on my portfolio. There hasn’t been time.” 

“Sounds like the kind of thing you make time for,” Liam said softly. “Why haven’t you made time?” 

“Because I don’t think I can listen to him say goodbye. I don’t think I have the stomach for it. Once when I actually leave is going to be more than enough.” Zayn knew he was being a coward, but he really couldn’t bring himself to do anything differently. He couldn’t bear losing Niall again and again. 

Liam sighed again. “You have to say something,” he said. “Zayn, you could lose him forever.” 

“I am losing him forever. I’m moving, he’s not, what could I say that could change that?” 

“Change what?” 

Zayn’s eyes shot up at the voice at this door, Niall, leaning in the room, watching him curiously. What had he heard? How long had he been standing there? “I…” Zayn started but Niall shook his head, obviously not caring enough to get a real answer. 

“That Liam?” he asked, dropping on Zayn’s bed, gesturing at the phone. When Zayn nodded, Niall leaned over, mouth close to the receiver and Zayn’s own mouth so he could talk to Liam. “Got the video of Hattie! Is she walking yet?” 

Niall leaned back with a grin, the one that Zayn echoed even if he didn’t quite feel it. “Did he hear?” Liam demanded, but Zayn shook his head.

“No. Liam says not yet. Soon though,” Zayn told Niall and hoped Liam caught his part of the answer as well. 

“Tell him to send more videos the instant she starts.” Niall smiled, then clapped his hands together, bouncing up again and heading for the door. Just when he got to it he turned back, pointing at Zayn. “Did you figure out where we’re going to live in London?” 

Zayn’s breath caught in his throat. Not once had Niall asked him about his plans or about what he was doing. Also, did he say we? There was no way he’d said we. Zayn must have heard him wrong. “Um, no. There’s a couple places I was going to look at…” 

“Good.” Niall’s smile was bright. “Found us a place.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper and handed it to Zayn. “Already called the guy. We can move in in two weeks.” 

Zayn looked at the page, a printout of a flat listing. Two bedrooms, in the same neighborhood that the gallery he’d be working at was located. He looked it over twice then looked back up at Niall. “Us?” he said, waving between them.

Niall looked around, like someone else was in the room. “Yeah. Who else?” 

“I thought…” Zayn didn’t know what he thought and he could hear Liam demanding to know what was going on from the phone.

“You thought I’d let you go to London without me? What are you mental?” He grinned and patted the doorframe. “Of course I was going with you.” He shook his head and left and Zayn couldn’t help but stare at where he’d been holding the phone in one hand and the sheet about their new place in the other.

\-------

Two weeks later, Zayn found himself standing in their new flat in a small arty district of London. Everything he owned was piled in a few boxes and suitcases in his room and his phone was full of text messages from Liam postulating what Niall moving down to London with him meant. Zayn was starting to think that he was spending too much time watching daytime dramas with his mother, but he didn’t say it. Zayn was doing his best not to think too much into things. Or into Niall bumping his hip against Zayn, grinning and slipping an arm across his shoulders. “It’s not much, but it’s a good start, right?” 

The new place was smaller than the one they’d had in Manchester, more expensive, and a little bit of a dump, but the guy who’d shown it to them said he didn’t care what they did with it and Niall had already started talking about letting Zayn paint the walls with whatever he wanted. “Yeah, I guess it is.” 

Niall smiled brighter, pinching Zayn’s side. “Feels like being proper grown ups and everything, right?” he said before heading towards his room. Zayn waited, trying to decide what to do with himself before following after Niall. 

“Hey, Nialler?” 

The blonde looked up from a box he was unpacking, one eyebrow raised. “What’s up?” 

Zayn took a deep breath then shrugged a little. “The other night, after we left Liam’s…” 

“Yeah?” 

“We…” Zayn started, but he wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. 

“I know,” Niall supplied for him. “I don’t regret it. But this is better, right? Us together?” 

_No. Of course it’s not. I have no idea what we are._ Zayn might have thought it, but he didn’t say it. “Yeah, of course,” he said because while it wasn’t, what was his other option? Niall still in Manchester and gone forever? “But we’re...we’re okay, right?” 

Niall set down the football he’d been pulling out of a box and went back to Zayn, wrapping him up in a hug. “Yeah, we’re great.” 

But Zayn didn’t feel great. He felt awful, with his hands curled around Niall’s hips wondering what any of it meant or if it meant anything at all. _But Niall came with you._ It was Liam’s voice in his head and while Zayn has no idea when Liam turned into his Jiminey Cricket, he was right. Niall came with him. Niall wasn’t about to let them be apart after one night together. It was enough for Niall to move to the city with him, with no plan for a job at all, just follow wherever Zayn led like Zayn had always followed where Niall led for years. 

The realization made Zayn clutch at Niall harder and Niall seemed to get that, holding tight to Zayn’s shoulders, humming something softly that didn’t sound like words but was soothing nonetheless. When Zayn finally pulled back, Niall smiled up at him, eyes bright and Zayn felt sixteen all over again, starting over with the blonde who had acted like they were best friends from the first second they’d seen each other. “So, proper adults should know where all the best pubs are, right?” he suggested, needing something, something that wasn’t filling the space in their tiny flat making it hard to breathe. 

“Of course they do,” Niall agreed with a sharp nod. “Let me change my shirt?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Zayn went to his room to do the same, throwing on something cleaner and glancing at his hair before waiting on Niall. It wasn’t long before they were both sat in a pub tossing back pints and chatting with the pubmaster. By the end of the night, Niall had a job and Zayn was falling into bed with him, wrapping his arms around Niall’s waist to keep him close. Because they were proper adults and apparently that was a thing that proper adults did: lie about all of their feelings and cling to what mattered.

\-------

Zayn dumped his bag on the couch of the tiny flat, rubbing at his eyes. He was exhausted. Running the gallery was tiring, taking more of his time than he’d expected and leaving him with barely any time to do any of his own art. He’d asked for help and gotten permission to hire someone, but it seemed finding and hiring help was almost as hard as managing the gallery. The day had been spent sitting through interviews, listening to people clearly lie to him about their skills and pick through, hoping to find the right candidate. There was one possible, a guy who reminded him of Liam, earnest in his comments and eager to learn even though he knew nothing about art. He had an easy smile though and after talking to seven uppity artists or equally annoying idiots Zayn was thinking maybe a guy who knew nothing about art would be more help than one of them. 

He yawned, stretching his hands over his head, and checked his watch. There was still an hour before Niall had to be at work, which meant that he could take a shower before he needed to prod Niall awake. They were on different schedules these days with Niall getting an internship at a radio morning show, gone long before Zayn woke up, then back at the pub for the evening shift. At the most, Zayn saw him in between or on their few days off, usually curled in Zayn’s bed, napping between shifts. Half the time it felt like Niall’s room was a guest room with how little Niall actually slept in his room. 

Zayn was earlier than usual though and he could probably swing an hour or two in bed with Niall before Niall had to be at work. He was a touch too tired to think that it might be more than just sleeping together for a few hours, which was another thing they’d started doing, squeezing in hook ups when Zayn spent his weekend nights at the pub, getting drunk enough that two of them crawled into bed together at the end of the night and did more than just sleep. The thought of Niall’s pale skin, splotched with red and his breath gasping perked him up a little though and he wondered if there was any chance of a sober hook up. At least that was what he was thinking until he got to the bathroom door. A door with a bra hanging off of the handle. 

That was definitely not Niall’s. Or his. Zayn picked it up, then looked down the hall, spotting the trail of clothing, Niall’s shirt, a pair of jeans too skinny to be his and a trainer that was definitely Niall’s. He leaned against the bathroom door, hearing the water running behind it, then a high pitched giggle that tapered off into a low moan. 

Zayn nodded to himself, tapping his fingers against his lower lip, looking back at the clothes, then the bathroom door. He hadn’t really assumed it was just him Niall was hooking up with. There were times when they weren’t together, times when he had that lazy smile that meant he’d gotten laid recently, but there hadn’t been actual proof yet. Zayn wandered back into the kitchen digging around for the cannister of instant coffee they had. Niall would need it if he hadn’t slept. 

Why he was making coffee for his not-boyfriend best friend roommate who was busy hooking up with someone else was beyond him, but it was still something he did. By the time they stumbled into the tiny kitchen he was holding out a mug for Niall who just grinned. The girl at least looked sheepish as she left, kissing Niall’s cheek and heading for the door after telling him she’d had a great time. 

“You’re going to be late,” Zayn reminded Niall when he came back into the kitchen, still missing a shirt. 

Niall rolled his eyes, but Zayn grabbed a spare shirt from the pile of laundry no one had bothered to put away and tossed it at Niall, making sure to hit in him in the face. “Who was that?” he asked, pushing up to sit on the counter, holding his mug in both hands. 

“Just a bird,” Niall said with a shrug. 

“Doesn’t even have a name?” Zayn asked, wondering why he was asking, why he bothered. It was like he enjoyed torturing himself. Though these days it didn’t feel like as much torture. He didn’t wonder what it was like to be wanted by Niall, he knew, but he still asked, wanting to know who else Niall wanted. 

“She does, but… do you really want to know it?” Niall asked pulling his shirt on, hair poofing up after he tugged his head through it. 

“Am I going to be seeing here again?” Zayn seriously hoped the answer would be no. 

Niall looked at the door, then shrugged. “You weren’t supposed to see her in the first place. You got home early,” he said. “Everything alright?” 

Zayn was pretty sure that asking the question was a blatant attempt to change the subject, but he let it go. “I just got tired of interviewing people, shut the place down early.” He paused, sipping at his coffee, wondering if he should ask about the girl again or not and opted not to. Did he need to know about Niall’s casual hook ups? Wasn’t he one of them now? Did he have a right to know about the others? “Am I making a mistake of hiring a guy who knows nothing about art, but reminds me of Liam?” 

“There’s an opportunity to hire someone like Liam and you’re debating it?” Niall sipped at his own coffee before dropping the cup on the tiny table and moving closer to Zayn. 

“I guess I am,” he said, shrugging. 

“Did you forget Liam didn’t even realize there was a type of coffee that wasn’t instant when he started at the coffee shop?” Niall asked. “Then he was their best coffee-maker person. Hire the guy who’s going to learn, not the snobby art kid who won’t appreciate it.” While Niall had been talking he’d kept moving closer, bracketing Zayn in place with a hand on either side of his thighs. 

“You’re going to be late,” he reminded Niall, because he knew Niall was right. If the Tim guy had half of Liam’s dedication he’d be fine for the job. He’d learn about art and wouldn’t be a snob. It was a job at the reception area of the gallery. Zayn didn’t need an art history major, he needed someone that was going to be on time and not insult anyone during the day. He’d call the guy back tomorrow. 

“No one cares.” 

“I care. I care about you making your share of rent.” 

Niall quirked a smile, leaning in, just enough to make Zayn’s breath catch in his throat. They did this more now too. It always felt intentional, like he really meant it. “Will you be here tonight?” 

“I might be asleep.” 

“You know I don’t care about that.” 

Zayn rolled his eyes and nodded. “Fine. I’ll be here.” 

Niall’s eyes held his for a long moment before his grin spread across his face and he pressed a kiss too far away from Zayn’s mouth, but not close enough to his cheek. “See you then,” he said brightly before heading back to the table to gulp down the last of the coffee. As always, he waved before leaving the flat and Zayn stayed sitting on the counter long after Niall had left wondering just what his life had become. 

\-------

“Why do I have to go to this?” Zayn asked, signing off for a delivery of a new artist’s work he was displaying for the next month at the gallery. She’d offered to drive everything over herself and he’d sent someone to pack it up and deliver it for her which had made her cry on the phone with him for fifteen minutes because she was amazed she’d finally made it. That was easily what he loved most about his job, giving artists like himself a chance, and after working there for a few months Zayn felt like he enjoyed it even more than selling his own paintings. 

“Because you never go anywhere?” Tim leaned over the counter that he worked behind, greeting visitors, though he was looking at the delivery guy and not Zayn, waggling his eyebrows in a way that was supposedly good looking, but Zayn wasn’t sure why. It was working on the delivery guy though. He was clearly not gay or interested, but he seemed to appreciate the attention, casting a smile towards Tim before leaving. 

“I’m here, every day. You see me every day.” Zayn snapped his fingers in front of Tim’s face when he didn’t answer right away, too busy ogling delivery guy’s ass. 

“Yes, but that’s here. You work here,” Tim complained instead, tilting his head to the side in a way that reminded Zayn of Liam. He’d been right in thinking Tim was like Liam when he hired him, but some days, most days, Zayn wished he’d not hired someone who reminded him so much of his best friend. “Where do you go when you’re not here?” 

“Home,” Zayn said without hesitation. “Or-”

“Or to the pub your _roommate_ works at.” Tim drew out the word like it meant something far more than it did. 

“Don’t say it like that.” Zayn scolded him for it every waking second, but Tim never listened. 

“Grimshaw says it the same way on his show. We all know. You don’t have to keep it a secret.” 

Zayn rolled his eyes at mention of Niall’s other boss. Niall’s internship at the radio programme really involved being the broadcaster’s bitch, but Niall loved getting everyone tea and chatting up celebrities that came to talk to Nick Grimshaw and Nick seemed to like Niall best of his small horde of minions. Not long after Niall had been there, Nick had brought him out of the back room with his peers and dropped him in the production booth or air with them and the last month’s entertainment for the listeners had been Nick attempting to prove that Niall’s roommate was made up and figment of Niall’s imagination. The show came on earlier than Zayn bothered to be awake, but Niall was always good for telling Zayn about it afterward. “There’s no secret to keep. Give me a better reason for why I have to go to this thing.” 

“Because you could use a good shag?” 

That made Zayn narrow his eyes, pushing his grown out hair out of his face for the full effect, but it didn’t seem to work on Tim the way it might work on Liam. Maybe Tim realized that Zayn couldn’t fire him on a whim if he wanted to get anything done around the gallery. 

“I’m right, aren’t I? It’s been a bit, hasn’t it?” 

Yes. It had been at least a month since the last time Zayn and Niall had gotten drunk and fallen into bed together, sloppy movements and hurried kisses to get each other off before passing out tangled up in one another, because that was still a thing that was happening. Every time Zayn knew he shouldn’t let it happen, but he never could stop himself when it started. Worse was, it wasn’t always Niall that initiated it. “That’s as far from any of your business as it gets.” 

Tim rolled his eyes in a way that Liam never would and Zayn hated him a little bit more. If he was going to remind Zayn so much fo Liam couldn’t he be Liam-like all the time? It made Zayn miss Liam though he supposed that Liam would see right through the lie and know who it was that Zayn was hooking up with on the side. “Your mood is my business. And you being uptight isn’t good for business.” 

“Bullshit.” Zayn said it out of habit, but it hit home more than he’d liked to admit. Maybe that was true, maybe it did affect business if his mood is foul because he probably could use to get off. He’d gone longer before, but that was before he was stringing moments with Niall together by thin threads hoping every time was the time and waking up to not talk about it or laugh awkwardly with Niall about it before escaping to the bathroom and bang his head against the wall. 

Tim raised an eyebrow, waiting on Zayn to fold and damnit Zayn didn’t even have an argument. He was a sucker. That was Liam’s fault from years of breaking down any sort of badass exterior that Zayn had and Tim was taking advantage, probably without realizing he was taking advantage. “ _Fine_. But you aren’t setting me up with any of your weird friends.” He pointed sternly at Tim though he could tell Tim wasn’t listening just fishing around in his messenger bag to hand Zayn a flyer for the party he’d been talking about. 

“Be there at ten. Wear something tight that you don’t mind getting dirty.” 

“I hate you so much.” Zayn looked around then glared at Tim. “Don’t you have work to do?” he asked then turned on his heel and headed for his office in the back of the gallery, but he kept the flyer. What the hell, right? He could use with living a little bit, but he didn’t have to be happy about it.

\----------

The party was more of a rave and Zayn wasn’t exactly a fan of but the thudding beat of the bass was hard to deny. Tim found him faster than he would have expected, smears of blacklight paint on his shirt and his face. He’d handed over a neon blue drink that tasted too sweet to be just booze, but nodded towards the DJ stand. “You’re gonna need this.” There, with stupid bright pink hair, was Nick Grimshaw, his name plastered behind him, headphones draped around his neck.

“I hate you.” Zayn took a hefty swig of the drink thinking nothing that looked like window cleaner should be drunk but he still drank it. He’d have to drink it. Because he didn’t need to see the shock of blonde hair hop up to the DJ stand to hand over a drink to know that Niall was there. 

“Last minute addition! I didn’t know, I swear!” Tim actually looked guilty which was a few points for him at least. 

“I know!” Zayn shouted back and sighed. Niall had bounced out of the flat in a barely there tank top with a press of a kiss against Zayn’s temple on the way to a last minute work thing with Grimshaw. He’d been so proud that the DJ was inviting him to help out, seeing it as a sign towards him moving past his internship and into a real job. It would figure it was the same event that Zayn was at to meet someone and to let loose. Still, Zayn was here now. He might as well try and enjoy himself. “Where’d you get the paint?” he asked Tim, nodding towards the paint on his shirt and skin. 

“Over there,” Tim said with a grin, pointing towards a corner of the room. “Need another one of those?” he asked, nodding towards the window cleaner drink Zayn had somehow gotten halfway through. 

“Am I going to regret a second?” 

Tim shrugged. “Maybe?” 

Zayn looked at the cup then shrugged. “Get me another. I’ll fix your paint.” He tipped the rest of the drink back then headed towards the paint station. Apparently he was going all out and not going to bother with any potential fall out until the morning. 

Tim found him quickly enough, handing over a neon green drink this time, which tasted more like liquid candy and which made it more appealing. He held the cup between his teeth as he added to Tim’s paint, stripes up and down his arms and back when he stripped off his shirt. It was probably too much close contact with his employee, but whatever was in the first cup had already fuzzed the edges around his brain and made it seem like a great idea. He could regret it when he saw Tim on Monday. 

As Zayn finished up the last line of paint, a girl with barely anything on leaned into his side with wide eyes. “That looks so cool,” she said then grabbed his arm. “Do mine?” 

Zayn glanced down at her tiny sports bra and micro mini skirt and nodded, ignoring the way Tim laughed behind him. He gave her bright pink wings across her bare shoulderblades and blue lines along her stomach. Just as he was looking up from finishing she leaned in and kissed him hard, which earned her a smear of color along her jaw from where he cupped it when she sucked on his tongue. When she was done kissing him senseless she left, smiling and waving as she went. 

“So that’s the payment for the artwork?” Zayn spun at the voice, grinning at the larger man in front of him. He was broad, all shoulders and arms like Niall’s friend from school, Bressie, and Zayn sipped at his cup, letting his eyes roam over the guy without shame. Whatever the hell was in his drinks was doing the damn job that was for sure. “You interested?”

Gigantor’s smile echoed Zayn’s and he hooked his fingers in the hem of his shirt to pull it off, revealing a perfectly chiseled chest. “Good enough of a canvas?” 

Zayn nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the man’s skin. “I think I can work with that.” He could definitely work with that. Like all over it. He was just thinking about his mouth on that skin when the guy moved closer and Zayn had to crane his head back to see his face.

“Then I’m interested,” he said. 

The paint wound up more smeared across skin from where Zayn had drug his hands down his mystery guy’s back and across the tank top Zayn was wearing under his button down. It was streaked through Zayn’s hair and across his chin, but when he stumbled away from the dark corner they’d been snogging in for who knew how long, it really didn’t matter. He didn’t get off, but that was probably for the best considering the blacklights were picking up everything, but knew he was flushed and pleased, looking for Tim, the bar, and another drink when he heard his name. 

He shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the music, but that voice was imbedded in his soul. Zayn would hear it anywhere. Over crashing tidal waves and raging storms, that voice could catch his attention any time. He turned to see Niall standing there, stupid gorgeous tank top starting to slip off one shoulder, glowstick necklace around his neck and a look of pure horror on his face. 

“No way. That’s not Zayn.” 

Zayn pulled his eyes away from Niall’s, spotting the flash of pink hair, brighter than the glowstick around Niall’s neck and the devil may care grin that went with it. “There’s no way it’s him.” Nick looked at Niall, then back at Zayn. “Well, shit. Niall Horan, you do have a shade paler than Irish. Zayn the imaginary flatmate is apparently not so imaginary,” he said with a little leer in Zayn’s direction. “Though there’s a chance I’m seeing things, because he looks too good to be real.” 

Somehow Zayn had moved closer to the clump of people he was starting to piece together were his best friend’s coworkers. “Not imaginary at all,” Zayn said, reaching for Niall’s drink and looping an arm over his shoulder with a grin he wasn’t really feeling, but whatever he’d been drinking made it easier to fake. 

“What the hell, you’re covered in paint. Were you rolling in it? Why are you here?” Niall’s whispers were harsh, concerned, and Zayn wasn’t sure how to answer those questions. He’d been drug out to meet someone, to do what he’d done in a dark corner with a stranger, maybe more, but with Niall so closer, that concern in his voice, it seemed like a stupid idea. 

“I wasn’t rolling in it. And Tim invited me.” 

Niall looked a bit sick and reached up to touch Zayn’s hair, which was longer than it had ever been before, falling in his eyes when he didn’t slick it back or up. “It’s in your hair. You haven’t had paint in your hair in…” Niall trailed off as his eyes went wide, clearly realizing the smears across Zayn’s skin and shirt were spaced like hands, fingers even. Zayn could tell that looking at the splotches on his arms. 

Zayn could also tell that Niall’s grip on his waist got tighter. 

When he looked up again, Nick was smiling at them, head cocked to the side like they were oh, so interesting. “Seriously, boys, carry on. Finchy here is dying a little, but I could actually watch this all night.” 

Niall groaned softly and turned into Zayn’s neck and Zayn could feel the flush on his cheeks against his own skin. Zayn used to wonder how to go from where they were now to something else, to something more, Niall’s groan different, his mouth doing more than just pressed against his skin. Only Zayn knew now and he wanted it again. The other guy had been fun, huge, but he wasn’t Niall and all it took was Niall’s breath on his skin for Zayn to want him and only him. Shit, he was too drunk to think through what that kind of feeling meant and he made a decision to ignore it. He shrugged the shoulder Niall wasn’t under at Nick. “Nothing to see. Just lads. You must be Grimshaw.” 

“None other. And you’re Zayn. I have to say, I didn’t think you were real.” 

“I told you I wasn’t making him up!” Niall insisted, coming out from his hiding place, but not letting go of Zayn even if he was gesturing with his free hand. 

“How was I to believe that someone that good looking, that talented, and that apparently wonderful was real and was willing to live with you?” 

“I’m a fine flatmate!” 

“Well, minus the towels on the floor and that damn football being everywhere. And the time you were hooking up with someone on the couch when I wanted to sleep there,” Zayn said, more words than he usually might and at Grimshaw of all fucking people, but he’d always been a little chattier when he was drunk. Niall poked his side in retaliation. 

“You had your own bed! There was no way I was getting in the way of anything when you had a bed to sleep on in your own room!” 

“Which was really far away!” 

“Boys!” Nick held up his hand and shook his head. “Dear god, you’re like married already. I love it and hate it. You’re disgusting.” 

“We’re not-” Zayn started, but Nick held up his hand to stop him. 

“No. I don’t want to hear it. Trust me, he’s said it all and I don’t believe a word out of either one of your mouths, even less now that’ I’ve seen you do the same thing. How about instead, I buy you both drinks, since we’re celebrating and you, Zaynie, tell me how much of a mistake I’m making by giving this idiot a full-time job on my show.” 

Zayn froze, then looked at Niall who was grinning and nodding. “You got the job?” 

“I got the job,” Niall confirmed and Zayn couldn’t help but wrap him up in a big hug, not caring that he was getting paint on Niall’s shirt. There was talk that the internship might be something more after it was up, but it all hinged on Nick and if he wanted Niall full-time, but apparently he did. 

“Damn right he did,” Nick said, handing over two more cups, pink drinks the color of his hair this time. “Assistant Producer.” 

“Assistant to the Producer,” someone else chimed in. 

“Ass for short,” Nick added. “Perfect right? I’m going to hate his smiling face in mornings, but he’s official.” 

Zayn squeezed Niall’s side, kissing his cheek. “Proud of you,” he whispered softly, watching Niall’s cheeks flush up again. Zayn knew he was too drunk to comprehend anything, but it felt like everything was finally coming together. They had their moments, not together-together, Niall wasn’t pulling away. In fact he was pulling closer and Zayn was just gone enough to believe Liam’s texts. Life had worked out better for them, Niall had a job better than anything he’d lined up in Manchester, half by luck, and Zayn finally felt like he hadn’t drug Niall into the biggest mistake of his life. It might actually all work out. They might work out. 

“Ugh, seriously both of you. Stop. We need much less adorable not boyfriend things going on between you two.” Nick rolled his eyes, but Niall stuck his tongue out at him and Zayn flicked him off, which just made the older man dissolve into laughter. 

The conversation eventually steered away from them and Niall’s job, but Zayn couldn’t help noticing the way Niall spent the rest of the night always touching him hand on his or his arm, arm around Zayn’s waist or shoulders, elbows touching when the rest of him was turned away to talk to someone else. It was the kind of casual public contact that used to leave Zayn wondering what came next, desperate to know how it felt to have Niall’s hands on him properly, but now he knew. And this time, every touch sparked a new memory instead of a new fantasy. Zayn had thought the fantasies were bad, but it turned out the memories were far worse. It was much harder to know exactly how Niall’s fingers would clutch, to know which touches brought noises and which didn’t. It made Zayn want him, more than he usually did. He could feel it in his bones, his core, and he knew he’d be dragging Niall into his bed that night no matter how bad an idea it was. The whole point of the night had been to meet someone different, to try out something new, but Zayn, as always, found himself back where he belonged, right at Niall’s side.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so, sorry for the delay on this. Hopefully you're all still here. Finally.

There was a noise that wouldn’t stop, something that kept fucking ringing, and Zayn couldn’t figure out what it was because it wasn’t his alarm. He didn’t set an alarm on Saturdays anymore, not now that Tim could run the gallery on his own on a normal weekend. After a moment of batting at his nightstand, he managed to get his hands on his phone, squinting at the picture on the screen. That was Liam’s parents’ house number, which was probably nothing, but Liam had moved out and into his flat well over two months ago. He hit accept, hoping he didn’t sound as half hungover as he felt. “Li?” 

“Not Liam, dear. Did I wake you?” Karen’s voice sounded deeply concerned, too much for just waking Zayn up on his day off. He sat up, or tried to at least, only to realize he was pinned to the bed by a strong arm flung across his chest. He cut his eyes to the side, the sharp jaw, the dark hair on the spare pillow. Apparently he had made that phone call last night. He’d sort of hoped it had been a dream, but apparently not so much. 

“It’s fine, Mrs. Payne. What’s up? Is Hattie okay?” Zayn shifted better his time, managing to get out from under the arm, at least able to sit up and find his pants. It wasn’t like Liam’s mom was there, but it felt weird to talk to her while he was naked. 

“She’s fine, love. And it’s Karen. It’s not her I’m...I’m worried about Liam.” 

“Liam? Why?” It must have been serious if Karen was calling him. Zayn was close to Liam’s family, but Zayn was all the way in London. What could he do?

“He’s just so…” Karen’s voice broke a little, like she’d been crying or she might start and Zayn sat up more, looking around for a pair of jeans that were his. Whatever it was, it needed his attention. “He’s so sad, Zayn. I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t do anything unless it’s work and even that he’s doing too much of.” She sighed softly. “I know he only gets like this when he’s feeling down, but he won’t talk to me and I was thinking, if you aren’t busy…” 

Zayn pulled his phone away to check the time then did some math in his head. “I can catch a morning train and be up there just after lunch?” he suggested. 

“Oh, love you don’t have to come up, just call him.” 

Zayn shook his head. “You know that won’t work,” he reminded her softly. If it would have worked, she wouldn’t have called. He talked to Liam regularly, even if only for Harriet updates. If Zayn could just talk Liam out of his funk, he would, but he had a feeling talking wasn’t going to do the trick. 

“Well, alright.” Zayn smiled, knowing that Karen gave in too quickly for that not to have been her original goal. 

“I’ll let you know when I get in.” By the time he’d rung off, the body in his bed was awake, arm tucked behind his head, watching him. 

“Leaving me already?” Derek asked, grinning as Zayn crawled back over him, ducking his head to kiss him. He always regretted calling Derek after the fact, considering they weren’t much of anything, but damn if he wasn’t a sight to behold. 

“I’ve got to head out of town. You can stay here if you want?” Zayn suggested, but Derek shook his head. He knew what they were as much as Zayn did and he knew not to overstay his welcome. It was half of what made Zayn call him every time he wanted a distraction of that nature. 

“I’ve got clients all afternoon and it would probably be good to wear different clothes than yesterday.” Derek pulled Zayn in for another kiss and Zayn wondered for the millionth time why a personal trainer had taken an interest in him and managed not to give Zayn any grief over his list of vices he’d heard Derek complain about his clients having. “Do you have time before you have to go?” he asked, already undoing the button on the jeans Zayn had just put on moments before. 

“I can make time.” 

“You should.” Derek’s grin was teasing, just how Zayn had gotten used to him being, and Zayn let himself get pulled back into bed for another round. It was still early by the time they were done, Derek dressed with Zayn trailing after him, with only a hoodie and his boxer briefs on, kissing him goodbye before turning back to find Niall sitting in the kitchen, bowl of cereal in hand, eyebrow raised. 

“Didn’t know Derek was still a thing,” Niall said slowly, like he was trying to sound casual, but it didn’t hit the mark. 

Zayn shrugged, pleased that Niall had made coffee already and poured himself some before looking around their tiny flat for where he’d tossed his jacket the night before. “It’s not really a thing.” His jacket was tossed over the arm of the chair, rather neatly for someone who’d stripped out of it while sucking his way down the column of Derek’s neck and Zayn had to wonder if Niall had moved it. He pushed that thought away, digging in the pocket for his cigarettes, then headed towards the window that led out to the fire escape. 

It was cold out, even more so in what little he was wearing, but Zayn still sat on the steps that ran along their flat, not at all surprised when Niall appeared in the window, sitting on the ledge with his bowl of cereal. “So, Der’s fit,” Niall said, still going for that casual tone, but falling short. Zayn wondered if he thought he might get better the more the tried or if it sounded better to Niall than it did to Zayn. Niall had the advantage of knowing what he wanted it to sound like, but Zayn knew every single one of Niall’s tones and he could tell when Niall was forcing himself to sound one way rather than how he actually felt. 

Zayn lit his cigarette, taking a drag and blowing it out before tilting his head at that. “You don’t think guys are fit.” Every person that Niall had hooked up that wasn’t Zayn was female, hands down without a doubt. Niall might be into him, but he wasn’t gay.

“I think you’re fit,” Niall insisted with more conviction than he needed. It was enough to make Zayn laugh. 

“I hardly count.” 

“I think you do!” Zayn frowned as Niall’s eyes dropped back to his bowl and he repeated the statement to his Cheerios. They didn’t do this. They didn’t do jealous, at least not outwardly. They each had their own conquests and when that wasn’t good enough, they had each other. It wasn’t anything, but it had worked for a few months and Zayn thought Niall was as fine with it as he’d forced himself to be. The way that Niall wouldn’t look at him had Zayn wondering otherwise. 

“It’s not anything, Nialler,” he said again, reiterating the point he’d tried to make earlier. 

“It’s the fourth time.” Niall had been counting. That was fair, Niall had been there the night Derek had sauntered his way into Zayn’s life, but Zayn hadn’t realized Niall had noticed the other times. “And you don’t usually let them stick around in the mornings.” 

So he’d heard them. That wasn’t surprising though, it wasn’t like Zayn had tried to be quiet. “It’s not anything.” He paused a moment then added to it, even though he knew he shouldn’t. “I promise.” 

Niall shook his head and abandoned his bowl, setting it on an end table and wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s okay if it is. You’re allowed to, you know, find someone.” 

Zayn flicked the cigarette into a broken mug they’d left out on the step for that purpose. Then he climbed down the steps to Niall, hand in his hair, carding through it while Niall leaned into his knee. “There’s no one else.” _Just you_. They were still doing the stupid dance, but Zayn knew the statement was true. At the words alone, Niall seemed to relax, turning his face into Zayn’s thigh before moving, pulling Zayn back inside with him. 

“I don’t have to work until tonight. Let’s spend the day in bed,” he suggested, arms already around Zayn, pulling him deeper into the flat and into the constant mistake Zayn couldn’t stop making. 

“Can’t,” Zayn murmured, not able to let go as Niall pressed his nose against his temple, not kissing but breathing against the sensitive skin there. Saying no was enough to get Niall to tense again, fingers gripping at Zayn’s hoodie harder as if he wasn’t as good as whatever scents Zayn could imagine lingered in his hair. “I’m going up to Wolverhampton. Gotta go see Liam,” Zayn added quickly, not wanting to lose all the ground he’d just gotten back with his flatmate. It wasn’t about Niall, it was about Liam. If Liam didn’t need him, Zayn would be right there, forgetting Derek’s memory and replacing it with Niall. 

Niall let out a shaky breath, pulling back and nodding. “I’ll come with you.” 

“I…” Zayn frowned, looked at Niall who seemed crestfallen at the mere suggestion that he wasn’t coming along. “His mum called. She’s worried about him being unhappy. I think...I think I’m going to do this on my own.” 

NIall looked ready to protest, argue his point, but he stopped. “You’re sure you don’t need me?” 

Part of Zayn wanted to shake his flatmate and insist that all he’d ever needed was Niall, just Niall, but he knew that wasn’t what he was asking about. Niall didn’t know the depth of Zayn’s feelings or, if he did, he hid from them just as much as Zayn hid from them himself. “I think I’ll be alright. I’m just going to see what’s wrong. Plus you’ve got work, right? And if all else fails, I know where to find you.” Niall didn’t seem completely sold on the idea but he nodded and loosened his grip on Zayn’s hoodie. Zayn ran his fingers through his hair then sighed. “Have you heard anything from him that might mean he’s upset, more than usual upset?” 

“No,” Niall said, with a face that said he was currently going over conversations in his head, the same way Zayn had, just to see if he’d missed something important that would justify Zayn’s need to their friend. “But he only ever talks about Hattie.” 

Zayn opened his mouth to argue that, but realized he couldn’t disagree. That was most of what they talked about when Liam called now. Harriet was talking more now too, which meant if Liam was with her, half the call was spent trying to sort out toddler gibberish of whatever thing she had in her mind that day. Zayn was never really sure, but he did come up with some of the best fantasy artwork after conversations with her. 

“It’s that bad, isn’t it?” Niall asked, worry shifting his features in a rare frown and shaking Zayn from his thoughts. 

“It might be.” 

Niall nodded. “Anything I can do to help you get on your way?” Zayn knew that meant Niall got it, that there wasn’t time to linger in them, in whatever the hell they were, or where it fell on the scale with Derek, not when Liam needed them. He needed Zayn to talk to him and Niall to let Zayn go as quickly as possible. 

“Throw some things in a bag for me while I take a shower?” It was an odd request, but Niall knew Zayn better than anyone else. He could easily pack an overnight bag for Zayn without much effort. Niall gave Zayn a little push towards the bathroom and, by the time Zayn was done getting ready, Niall had his bag packed, both it and him waiting on Zayn’s bed. After getting dressed he threw a few things in his backpack, then grabbed that and his duffle, leaning down to press a kiss against Niall’s forehead. “See you in a couple of days?” 

Niall got his hands on Zayn’s hoodie dragging him back towards the bed with a fierce kiss and Zayn fought the memory of Derek doing the exact same thing less than an hour before, focusing on answering the kiss, giving Niall the reassurance he needed. They might have others, but it was always Niall. “Be safe. Tell Liam I send my love,” Niall mumbled against his lips when he finally broke off the kiss. Zayn nodded, still close enough that it brushed their noses together. _I love you_. It was on the tip of his tongue. It sat there more often than it used to, always coming to mind in these moments, just the two of them, everything else in the world forgotten. The moments made him wonder if he could tell Niall, if he could confess everything and admit to the years of hurt and love that he’d gone through just to get to that moment and Niall would understand. Niall wouldn’t be upset about the lies, the half-truths, the others when all Zayn had ever wanted was Niall in his bed, his life, at his side. Niall would feel the same way. 

“You’re gonna miss your train,” Niall murmured, kissing Zayn again and giving him a little push away as the moment faded around Zayn. The rest of the world came back and he knew he couldn’t tell Niall the truth. What they had wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing. 

\------------

Karen was waiting at the train station when Zayn arrived, flitting about, trying to take his bag, open the car door for him, anything, before he waved her off and asked her to tell him about Liam. She sighed heavily and shook her head, fingers gripping her steering wheel as she drove them towards Liam's new flat. 

"He's just not himself. He seems so lonely. I don't know who he talks to that isn't Hattie or his father and I and he doesn't smile like he used to." 

Zayn nodded, trying to imagine Liam without a smile. He'd had one even when Becca was making him miserable, always able to find something that made him happy between his daughter and his friends. 

"I was thinking, if you could get him to go, maybe take him to London with you? We can take Hattie and I think he misses you and Niall more than he lets on." Karen seemed shy in her suggestion, the same way Liam might, but Zayn could tell she meant it. Like her son, she wouldn’t have built up the courage to ask if she didn’t really think it would help. 

"If he'll come, we'd love to have him," Zayn reassured her, hoping Liam would if that might snap him out of his funk. 

That seemed to relax Karen as she pulled up in front of the row house, nodding towards the right one. "Good luck, love," she told him gently. 

Zayn gave her a smile before collecting his bags and heading up the few steps to Liam's door. He wondered belatedly if Karen had called Liam to let him know that Zayn would be there or if he should have called himself. The moment the door opened though, he realized why she didn't call. The Liam that opened the door looked like a ghost of his Liam, hair a greasy mess, beard grown in and scraggly, and Zayn was pretty sure the shirt he had on was stained. His cheeks were sunken in a little, his brown eyes hazy with something and his lips chapped. "Zee?" Liam blinked at him, like maybe he was imagining Zayn there, and that was enough for Zayn to push forward on the door, making Liam step back into the house. 

"Yup. Your mum called." 

Liam groaned softly, covering his face and shaking his head. "Whatever she said isn't true." 

"Liar," Zayn stated, looking around the flat once he'd let himself in, relieved to see it wasn't a mess. Harriet's shoes were on the rack by the door, Liam's jacket on the hook. From where he stood, the living room looked nice too and the floors were clean. When Zayn looked back at Liam in a grungy pair of joggers that might have been Zayn's once, given that they were too short and paint splattered, to go with his shirt that had actual holes in it as well as the stains, Zayn realized it was Liam that Liam wasn't taking care of. "Where's Hattie?" he asked with a tone he'd only ever reserved for his younger sisters, setting his things down before shutting the door. 

"Taking her nap," Liam answered, clearly getting that the tone meant business. 

"Good. When did you last shower? And eat. What did you eat last?" 

Liam pursed his lips, and obvious protest on the tip of his tongue. Zayn just raised an eyebrow, hands on his hips, waiting on an answer. 

"I showered for work the other day," Liam relented finally. "And I had dinner..." He trailed off, looking confused about the answer, like he couldn't remember. Zayn sighed and rolled his eyes. 

"Shower. And shave. You look like a disgusting mountain man," zayn snapped. “Once you're clean and Hattie's up, we will go get food." When Liam just stood there, not moving, Zayn sighed and reached for Liam's shoulders, turning him around and starting him up the stairs, pushing at his back all the way to the bathroom. "Give me those clothes when you're done. We're throwing them out." 

"What's wrong with them?" Liam asked as he turned the shower on, glaring over his shoulder. 

"They're disgusting. You're disgusting." Zayn waited until Liam stripped out of the shirt and joggers before he left him alone, shutting the door and digging around in Liam's room to find clean things for his friend to wear. He let out another sigh of relief that laundry had been done, but given the way Liam's closet barely looked touched besides his work shirts, Zayn wondered if there was much laundry to do. 

He settled for finding clean pants, tossing those on the neatly made bed, and texted Niall an update on the situation. When Liam emerged from the bathroom, he was cleaner, thankfully, skin pink from scrubbing. The beard was still there, but it was clear he'd trimmed it back to something more manageable. Zayn held up the clean pants, finally smiling at his friend. He still looked a touch too thin, and not the fit trim he'd been in uni just before Harriet was born. "At least you were still human under that mess. Put on clean clothes and fix your hair." He watched Liam head towards the drawer with his joggers and snapped his fingers. "Real trousers. And a real shirt." 

The look Liam gave him was utterly defeated, shoulders dropped, hands at his sides open in half surrender. "Why? What does it matter?" 

"I refuse to be seen with you looking homeless. I have a reputation," Zayn said plainly, going back to his phone as if the matter wasn't up for discussion. The sigh Liam let out was clearly not amused, but he headed for the closet to get jeans anyway. 

"Better?" Liam asked when he was done, standing in front of Zayn, arms out for approval. He was in black skinny jeans and what was possibly the most hideous gray sweater Zayn had ever seen, but it was clean and real clothes so he opted not to push his luck just yet. 

"Yes." Zayn moved to get up, but stopped dead at a soft "daddy" from the doorway. Harriet was there, walking on her own since she was almost two, clutching her blanket and rubbing at her eyes. Zayn had seen pictures of her almost every other day, but seeing her so big almost bowled him over. 

"Hey, love," Liam greeted, all the annoyance with Zayn slipping away and he went to the little girl, scooping her up and kissing her cheek. "Look who came to visit." He turned the little girl towards Zayn and just like she had when she was little, her face lit up and she reached for him. 

"Uncle Zee!!" Zayn had her in his arms in a second, holding those soft curls, tangled from sleep, but it didn't matter because she was warm and real and Zayn still loved her as much as he had the day he'd seen her in the hospital when she was born. 

"Little princess," he hummed softly, clinging to her until she pushed at him. 

“You’re squishing!” 

Zayn laughed, letting her go and loving the way she could stand, clinging to his leg even if he’d put her down. “When did she get so big?” 

Liam was smiling at them, but it didn’t go all the way to his eyes. Those brown eyes still looked full of sadness. “I’m not sure. I’m worried I’m going to wake up tomorrow and she’ll be taller than me.” 

“She might,” Zayn warned, but that made his heart ache. He could only imagine how Liam felt about it. 

Liam just nodded. “Do you want to get dinner with Zayn?” He asked his daughter. 

“Yes!” Harriet answered, tugging at the hem of Zayn’s hoodie and Zayn couldn’t help but grin down at her. 

“Of course she does.” He looked up at Liam then squared his shoulders. “But tomorrow you’re coming to London with me.” Liam opened his mouth to protest, but Zayn cut him off. “You’re coming. Your mother already said she’d take Hattie and I’m taking you. You need your friends and to remember who you are.” 

Liam was quiet for a long moment. “She did more than call you.” 

“She should have sooner.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You aren’t,” Zayn said, before ducking to pick up Harriet and hold her on his hip. She squirmed a little, but eventually settled against his shoulder. “Now, come on, let's get dinner and after Hattie can show me all of her toys.” 

Liam looked defeated, but still managed a smile, nodding and leading the way downstairs. Zayn had a guess that he would try and fight the trip again, but now that he knew everyone was in on it, he wouldn’t fight too hard. 

\----------

“I’m not sure why it is I need new things,” Liam said, coming out of the dressing room again, one hand holding the door open as Zayn nudged Niall to look up from his phone. 

“I told you he’d be back in plaid,” Zayn said, not answering Liam’s question. 

Niall chuckled and shrugged. “Looks better than it did when he was eighteen,” he pointed out and Zayn nodded. “Sort of a lumberjack fantasy thing, right?” 

"What do you know about lumberjack fantasies?" Zayn asked. 

"Grimmy's gay is catching," Niall answered, shaking his head. "He has a bit about some manly woodsman like from Little Red Riding Hood that could change his outlook on beards, axes, and hunting."

"That makes more sense." Zayn still didn't listen to the show much, given the time it came on, but he'd spent enough time with Nick to not be surprised. “That’ll do,” Zayn said nodding and waving Liam back into the room, but Liam didn’t budge. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Why did we come all the way to London so I can stand in H&M for four hours?” 

“It’s been one,” Zayn corrected. “And we are here because I threw out half the clothes you own while I was packing your bag to come down here.” 

“You what?!” 

Zayn sighed, rolling his eyes and looking at the ceiling, letting the bright lights blur his vision before looking back at Liam. “I threw out everything with a stain and a hole in it. It mostly left your work shirts and what’s in the bag you brought down with you.” 

“Why!?” 

Liam wasn’t getting it, and Niall wasn’t helping with the way he was snickering so Zayn got up, pulling at Liam’s arm and standing him in front of the big mirror at the end of the line of dressing rooms. “Look at yourself.” 

“We were talking about why you threw my clothes out,” Liam pouted, looking at Zayn over his shoulder in the mirror. 

“We still are. Look at yourself, not me.” Zayn watched Liam huff a sigh then look at himself. 

“What am I supposed to be seeing?” 

“A young, attractive single man,” Zayn said, hands on his hips. Liam definitely looked the part. He could use a haircut, but everything else about him was strong lines and deep features. He’d aged spectacularly, despite all the stress in his life.

“I'm single dad working for my dad and going nowhere. I’ve got no one to impress.” 

“Yes, you do.” 

“Who?” Liam turned, holding his hands up in the air. “Who is going to want me? Becca didn’t want me and I did everything for her. Trust me, no one is going to buy into this.” He waved at himself and sighed again. 

“Not when you’re dirty and you’re falling apart at the seams. Think of the guy who got Becca,” Zayn insisted. “That’s who you need to be. That’s who you can be. A responsible guy, with an adorable kid and who's good looking and loves deeply. You’re a hot commodity. It’s time to act like one.” 

Even Niall had gone quiet, waiting with Zayn for Liam’s reaction. Zayn held his breath for a moment, feeling the weight of the words he’d said, knowing they were more than he usually said, ever, but Liam needed to hear them. Eventually Liam turned, looking at his friends, sadness clouding his eyes.

“I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can feel like that again. It hurt too much.” 

Zayn stepped forward to hug Liam, but it was Niall who was there first, coming from the bench he’d been waiting on, phone abandoned, holding on to Liam tightly, whispering something that had Liam nodding, eyes closed and holding on to his friend. Zayn left them to it, not wanting to interrupt, even if he felt on the outside of things. Whatever it was that Niall said though seemed to be enough and when he came back to claim his phone, he was smiling and Liam was as well though a little watery. 

“So, what if it’s less single guy and more hot dad?” Liam suggested tentatively, but he smiled more when Zayn smiled back at him. 

“You can knock all the mums at daycare dead.” 

Liam laughed and rolled his eyes, but nodded and headed back into the dressing room to try on another outfit. Once he was out of earshot, Zayn looked at Niall. 

“What did you say to him?” 

Niall glanced at Zayn secretive smile across his lips. “That he deserves better. That we all do. And I know how much it hurts, but when it’s good it’s great. And all the pain is worth the good." 

“What do you mean ‘you know’?” Niall hadn’t ever been in love. Zayn would have noticed that. He knew he would have. 

Niall gave Zayn a sad smile before getting up from where he was sitting next to Zayn, waving his phone at him. “I’ve gotta give Nick a call, sort out work this week with Liam here. Can you handle this?” 

Zayn wasn’t stupid, he could see the way Niall was avoiding, but he didn’t push it. If Niall wouldn't tell him, Zayn wasn't sure he wanted to know. What if it was someone else? What if all the moments between them had been Zayn filling in for someone Niall had loved and lost? Zayn wasn't sure he could bear to hear that. Instead he just nodded. “I can.” 

“Good. I’ll be back in a bit.” He left then, tugging at his hat, and Zayn watched him go, not sure what to make of any of that. Who had Niall loved? Why hadn’t Zayn known about it? When had that happened? Zayn could run himself in circles thinking about it, so he forced himself not to, focusing on Liam. When Niall wandered back, Zayn was distracted trying to take a jumper that looked like the hideous gray one, but in blue, out of Liam’s hands and the questions he had for Niall earlier were forgotten. 

\----------

Nick and his crew of friends were guarding four too-small for real-sized people tables at the back of the club they’d picked out for the evening and Liam pinched at Zayn’s arm hard when they got closer. “That’s actually him,” he breathed, and Zayn looked back at the older man. He’d gone away from the pink hair finally, back to a normal brown and was already getting up to greet Niall. 

“Yeah, he’s ridiculous. Don’t believe a word he says,” Zayn whispered back, smiling as Nick got up to greet Niall, hugging him once before tucking Niall under his arm and eyeing his friends. 

“Do you have any friends that aren’t stupidly good looking?” Nick asked, shaking his head and giving Liam a solid once over. 

“You?” Niall suggested, which was enough for for Nick to pinch him. 

“See if I ever invite you to anything ever again,” Nick warned. 

“No need to worry, Finchy’ll invite me for you.” Matt blushed a little off to the side, shaking his head and hiding behind his drink. 

“Don’t harass him,” Nick lectured, before turning back to Zayn and Liam. “Alright, I know the imaginary roommate, but when did you cultivate a Beckham look alike?” 

Liam flushed pink at that, shaking his head. “I”m not-” 

“You are. Put a football kit on you and I might actually care about a sport. It’s happened before, even had a Becks poster on my wall at home, though...that might have had to do more with realizing I was gay and he’s our nation’s greatest treasure.” 

“Except he’s shit at football,” Niall piped up, trying to get between Nick and Liam. 

“Who? Becks! Bite your tongue you brogue!” 

“Not Becks,” Niall said rolling his eyes. “Liam.” 

“Am not,” Liam insisted. “Not shit, but I’m no Beckham. Clearly. I wish.” 

 

Nick laughed deeply, shaking his head at Liam. “Someone get us another round of drinks. If he’s going to keep talking like that I’m going to need them. He’s going to need them. Come on, you male model you, sit next to me and tell me how you know my leprechaun.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Niall warned, but moved a seat away from Nick so Liam could sit. Zayn took the spot next to Niall, leaning into his shoulder without thinking about it. 

“Why not? You’re short and Irish. If you aren’t a leprechaun, what are you?” 

“Fuck off,” Niall answered, but before Nick could respond, Liam jumped in. 

“Uni. I was roommates with these two.” 

Someone came back with drinks and Nick slid one full of a dark amber liquid towards Liam. “Shame that. I can’t imagine having to put up with that all the time. What’d you study?” 

Niall huffed a noise, but Zayn pressed his fingers against his arm, which seemed to quiet him and he reached for the pint that was brought to him instead. Zayn’s drink looked like Liam’s but it was sweet enough that it wasn’t anything he couldn’t finish. 

“Sound engineering,” Liam said softly. “I wanted to produce music. Maybe have my own label or something.” It was dreams that Zayn hadn’t heard about in years and it made him ache that Liam had wound up so far away from his dreams. “But I’m a dad now…” Liam trailed off, a hardness edging into his smile like he was forcing it while guarding himself for judgement. 

“A dad?” Nick asked then waved his hands about. “What took you so long to get to that? Boy or girl? You have to have pictures. Wait...Is this Hattie’s dad?” he demanded of Niall who just nodded. “Oh god, her, she’s precious. Niall keeps me updated. Why didn’t you lead with that, you stupid git?” 

“I didn’t want you to spend the entire time telling him you’re going to steal his kid!” Niall insisted. 

“Steal his child? I’m not like that. Not now that I know he looks like Beckham. I’ve got more of a mind to convince him to marry me so I can have both.” 

Liam flushed to his ears, but still held out his phone to Nick. “This is her,” he said. Nick shifted into cooing about Harriet, demanding more pictures and stories and after a few minutes it switched to friends’ children and then on to work like conversations with the Grimshaw crew always did. Zayn settled into it, drinking the drinks that were put in front of him, watching Liam flirt back as he got more comfortable and Niall’s hand slide up his own leg as the night went on. 

\--------

By the time they were stumbling out of the club, Liam had gotten a sloppy kiss on the cheek from Nick and had promised to come back to London so they could do this again, and Niall had his arm loosely around Zayn’s waist, hand tucked into his back pocket. Liam clearly noticed it, not entirely subtle when he was drunk, but beyond an over exaggerated eyebrow raise, he didn’t say anything. 

The cab ride was full of a comfortable buzz of conversation, window cracked to let in the cool night air and Zayn guessed for the driver to air out the smell of stale beer that he’d been driving around most of the evening. Liam was up front giggling over the way Niall retold some reaction that he’d had to something scandalous Nick said. 

“I didn’t think anyone actually talked like that!” 

“I thought you listened to his radio show. You said you did, Liam.” Niall held his hand against his chest as if he was deeply hurt by Liam not listening to his show. 

“I _do_ ,” Liam insisted, earnest in a way that only he could be when he was drunk. It was like normal Liam earnest times a thousand, complete with puppy dog eyes that might have even been watering a little. “He’s just so behaved on the show.” 

“But not really.” Niall shook his head. “Every time we go off air he curses like a sailor and says things that would make your skin sunburn from blushing. Though, really, I’m surprised he didn’t try and take you home with him. He seemed to be angling for it.” 

Liam’s smile slipped and he shook his head. “He wouldn’t.” 

“He would,” Zayn piped in. “If you weren’t Niall’s best friend and likely a permanent part of our group. I could tell he was considering it despite that.” 

The smile and the laughter left Liam completely, so much that even the driver glanced up at them, like he was trying not to listen in, but couldn’t help it. “He wouldn’t. I mean..I wouldn’t. No one would.” Liam’s shoulders slumped and Zayn watched all of the happiness drain out of him. Instinctively he reached for Liam, hand curling around his shoulder. 

“Someone will,” Zayn said softly. “You know that. You’ll find it again.” 

Liam shook his head. “I won’t. I don’t know...I don’t know if I could even if I did. She was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Zayn was sure that wasn’t the case, but he didn’t fight Liam, not with the way his words were slurring together and the tears sparkling in his eyes. “No one else is going to want me.” 

Zayn’s heart clenched, aching at the thought of Liam not being in love, not having love, like he deserved. At the idea of Liam still thinking Becca was the best thing that had ever happened to him. That she was the best thing that would happen to him. 

“Someone will. Promise.” Zayn meant it and though Liam tried for a smile, it came out bleaker than Zayn thought he meant it to. Zayn felt Niall’s hand slip into his, squeezing hard for a moment before Niall changed the subject, leading them down a safe topic of the latest release by some pop artist he knew Liam would have an opinion about. As the two started talking again, Zayn looked down at his hand in Niall’s and wondered if he should take his own advice. 

\--------

Liam had whimpered when Zayn had helped him to the couch, falling onto it, one hand over his eyes. “I’m doomed to love her forever, aren’t I?” he asked, words running together in a rush. 

Zayn pushed his legs out of the way and sat with him, looking at his hands. “Maybe, but it won’t hurt forever,” he said softly, hoping that was true. “You’re still young, you’ve got time to love someone else.” 

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Normally Zayn might be offended, but Liam’s tone wasn’t scathing or teasing, just stating the obvious. 

“Maybe I’m the one that knows then,” he tried instead, reaching up to brush at Liam’s hair where it had fallen out of his quiff. “You’ll love someone else. They’ll be great.” 

Liam shook his head and rolled on his side, facing the back of the couch. “I don’t want to. It’s not worth the hurt.” 

Zayn opened his mouth to protest, but before he could come up with the right words, Liam was snoring softly. He watched his friend for a long moment before heading for his own room, not at all surprised to find Niall there, sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone. 

“He asleep?” Niall asked, tossing the phone on Zayn’s bed and reaching for Zayn instead. Zayn let himself be pulled between Niall’s legs, nodding slowly, mind still half with Liam and what he’d said. 

“Out cold,” he answered finally, raising an eyebrow when Niall smirked up at him. 

“Good,” Niall murmured before pushing Zayn’s shirt up and kissing at the heart tattoo peeking out of his pants. “I wasn’t sure I could manage quiet.” 

Zayn felt his heart race at the suggestion, the mere idea alone. Niall had been suggesting at it all night, so the final offer wasn’t really anything surprising, but that was just it. It always made Zayn’s heart race. He looked down at Niall, watching him undo Zayn’s jeans before something else clicked in him and he stepped back, out of reach. 

Niall made a noise of protest, reaching out further, trying to get his hand back on Zayn like they were playing a game, but Zayn stepped further away. “Ni. No.” 

It was enough to make Niall freeze, one hand out for Zayn, eyes turning up to look at him. “No?” 

Zayn felt his breath leave his body. He wasn’t at all sure where that had come from, but his brain caught up with the rest of him and gave him the answer. It was what Liam had said. What right did Zayn have to suggest that someone else might fall in love again when he never gave himself the same chance? “I can’t,” he said finally, looking at Niall and watching the blonde’s face twist in confusion. “I can’t.” 

Niall got up, watching Zayn closely, touching his arm. “Can’t...we don’t have to do…” 

“I can’t keep doing this, Niall.” Zayn “I can’t keep pretending. I’ll never stop.” 

“Zee,” Niall started, pulling Zayn closer, but Zayn prevented a hug with a hand to Niall’s chest. He’d wind up right where he started if he gave in now.

“You should go.” 

Niall looked hurt, the pain clearly etched on his features, but he nodded. “It had to come to this eventually, didn’t it? I guess I get it.” Niall’s voice trailed off to a mumble that Zayn barely heard. “I just thought it was different this time.” 

What Niall said didn’t make sense, and Zayn almost drug him back, demanding him to explain, but he knew Niall’s cheeks weren’t just flushed because he was embarrassed. What good did it do either of them to drunkenly ramble about how they felt in hopes that it was different this time, that something had changed? It wouldn’t change where they were in the morning. It would just put Zayn one step further down the path of going through what Liam was. At least Liam had legitimately had Becca. What Zayn had with Niall was strung together with baling wire and packing tape, falling apart at best, but hanging on with hope and a prayer. He couldn’t live like that. Not anymore. He needed to step away. 

Niall seemed like he was waiting on something, some reaction out of Zayn, but Zayn just looked at the floor instead, not able to meet the hurt that clouded the normally bright blue of Niall’s eyes. “G’night,” Niall whispered when Zayn said nothing then left the room, closing the door behind him. 

“Goodbye,” Zayn whispered to no one.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here. Sorry for the delay, I got stuck, it got stuck in beta work (because my betas are the best, but damn did they push me on this one), but here it is. 
> 
> As always, love to my betas, and there's a play lists future full of unwritten things

There were three empty glasses on the table already and Zayn could see Niall working his way back to the table they had at the pub near Liam’s house with three more. After watching Liam spiral into unhappiness up in Wolverhampton alone, they’d changed things. Now either Liam came down to London for a long weekend or Niall and Zayn headed up to Wolverhampton every other month. The train tickets weren’t really cheap, but it was worth it to see Harriet when they visited and to keep Liam’s spirits up. 

Or as up as they could be, given his current morose mood. He’d started off the conversation with a very tragic announcement that he’d almost killed a bunny in his kitchen the previous weekend, then started a story that sounded less like it was about the bunny and more about the teacher the bunny belonged to. “I don’t think I can face Trousers again and I have to see him _every day_ at pick up and drop off,” Liam mourned when Niall got back to the table and set down their drinks. 

“Wait,” Niall said, sliding Liam’s beer closer to him and squeezing in next to Zayn. “Is Trousers the class bunny? I can’t follow this story for shit, mate.” Zayn chuckled and leaned more into Niall, watching Liam struggle with both his story and the good looking primary school teacher. Apparently he was doing a number on their best friend, if the way Liam’s head was on the table was any indicator. 

As Liam got to the end of his story again, even Zayn couldn’t hold back laughter. He tried to bury it in Niall’s shoulder, but there was no use when Niall was laughing just as hard. Clearly Liam didn’t mean for it to be funny, but it was hilarious, the idea of him struggling to not kill the bunny that had scared the crap out of him and then having Harriet tattle the moment she got to school. Actually, it probably wouldn’t have been as funny if Liam didn’t look as forlorn as he did. 

“He just smiles and winks like he’s made out of sunshine and perfection,” Liam whined. 

“I thought I was the bundle of sunshine!” Niall demanded, the first few beers clearly getting to him more than Zayn thought. Zayn didn’t hesitate in cuffing him on the ear and pulling him into a headlock, something silly and playful, wrestling for a moment until Niall settled against his side. Zayn kept his arm around him, head tucked close, sipping at his beer while Niall played with his fingers. 

When Zayn had finally made the decision to stop hooking up with Niall like it was nothing, to work on getting over his feelings for his best friend, he’d somehow managed to stick with it. Niall hadn’t pushed for more either, giving Zayn his space and, over the past few years, they’d found their way into an easy rhythm, building up to easy moments together and comfortable touches. It was more like when they were younger, casual and relaxed and not causing hours of pain and agony. Zayn was pretty pleased by it really. Of course, he was still just as in love with Niall as he’d always been, but he had Niall without all the pretense and the stress, and most of the time it didn’t bother him to only have him halfway.

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Zayn asked Liam, feeling like that was most of the problem here. Liam, who hadn’t had a proper crush in years, had a giant one for Harriet’s teacher. 

“I need to not to; he’s her teacher for god’s sake.” Liam clearly was distressed, not by the crush, but the object of his crush. Zayn took that as good sign. 

“He’s fit though, yeah?” Niall asked. 

“Beyond fit, gorgeous,” Liam said like it pained him more than admitting his crush. Zayn had to bite back a laugh at the whole thing. Of course Liam would think this Trousers person was gorgeous. It only made sense and had Zayn thinking that it was so much more than a simple infatuation. 

“He’s got it bad.” Niall’s look was just for Zayn, voice solemn at the lost of their best friend to a giant crush he couldn’t control. Zayn barely stifled his laugh again, not wanting to upset Liam any more than he already was, but it was funny. Niall got up to get them another round, despite Liam’s protests, and Zayn knew what was coming the moment before Liam asked. 

They’d had different versions of the same conversation again and again over the years, but it always landed in the same place. Liam would point out that Niall _had_ to love him, but Zayn would shake his head and deny it. Liam would insist that Zayn tell Niall, just this once, and Zayn tonight, as he always did, would refuse. It was like reciting from lines memorized for a play every night after opening. It wasn’t as surprising or interesting as it was the first time, but they both put their best effort into it. 

“He might say no,” Zayn told Liam after the usual volley, shaking his head. That was the thought that kept him up at night. Niall still dated, mostly people that Nick had set him up with, nothing serious. He’d go out for the night and fall into bed with Zayn late, then stick around for a good lie-in the next morning, arms and legs tangled up in Zayn like there was nowhere else worth being. 

“I highly doubt that,” Liam insisted, like he knew better. Zayn glanced towards Niall, seeking out his blonde head easily in the crowd and sighing. Liam might be sure, but Zayn wasn’t. If it was going to happen, wouldn't it have happened by now? They’d been Zayn and Niall for almost a decade and nothing had changed them, so why would it suddenly change now?

He watched as Niall chatted up the person next to him at the bar, easily holding his hand out to shake as he introduced himself to the beanie-clad man like they were already getting along swimmingly. This wasn’t hard to believe when it came to Niall, since he still was the best at making fast friends, but when Niall glanced back to the table once, eyebrow raised at Zayn, a silent message passed between them that something interesting was about to happen. It made Zayn more curious than he normally would be about a stranger. “Who’s he talking to?” Zayn asked, nudging Liam. The town was small and Liam knew almost everyone, either through his parents, his daughter, or his job. Whoever it was had Niall’s interest, though not in a way that would make Zayn jealous, just curious. 

“You, I’d imagine,” Liam said, still on the previous conversation and not catching up until Zayn pointed at the bar to clarify. Zayn watched as Liam’s eyes went comically wide and he started muttering to himself, skin going pale at the sight. Zayn looked back at the man in the skinny jeans with a dusting of facial hair on his chin and hints of tattoos peeking out of his shirt. 

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Liam’s crush spotted them and smiled brightly, something that fit his features perfectly, then waved at Liam. “Beyond fit is right,” Zayn added with a low whistle, smirking more as the teacher followed Niall back to their table. “You might not want to look so green though,” he added for Liam, patting his arm. Looking like he wanted to throw up on his crush’s shoes wouldn’t make a great first impression. 

Liam managed to make his befuddlement charming though as Louis, it turned out his name was Louis not Trousers, joined them at the table. He was even more handsome up close, sharp cheekbones, pointed teeth and a wicked grin. 

“Liam was just saying you’ve been a big help, him being a single dad and all,” Zayn commented, laying out the suggestion and reminding Louis that Liam was, in fact, single. Liam caught it but Zayn ignored any look he might have tried to flash across the table, as if it was completely an accidental wording. The comment hit its mark though and won Liam a smile from Louis along with a gentle tease about not being allowed to keep the class pets anymore.

Zayn felt himself slip into his normal, silent self, taking in Louis as he spoke, noting important things about him and the way Liam reacted to him for later. He was charming enough in his own right, but the way he gushed about Harriet was definitely winning him points in Zayn’s book. What really did it though, was the gentle way he handled Liam’s self-imposed shortcomings, gently touching Liam’s arm and reassuring him that he was doing a great job. It was something that Zayn knew himself to be true, but Liam didn’t always see it, and it was good to have someone else point it out to him.

Liam apparently also couldn’t see the way Louis was flirting with him. Or if he did see it, that look of wide-eyed wonder was because he didn’t believe it. And then, halfway through a conversation about Louis’ best mate, Liam blurted his feelings out loud and even Zayn couldn’t help the tiny intake of air because it could have gone terribly. Louis, to his credit froze at the compliment, but relaxed when Liam tried to babble himself out of it and ran with it, smirking at Liam over his glass. If Liam could have melted, he might have done it right then. His friend definitely had it bad. Very bad. 

\-------

Niall peeked out from behind the fridge door in Liam’s kitchen before appearing with the milk. “Still think we could have gotten pastries or something,” he mumbled, pouring milk into the two mugs of tea waiting. 

“You’re the only person that could eat like that with a hangover,” Zayn corrected from the stove where he was working on breakfast for the three of them, eggs, bacon and cheesy toast. Niall looked surprisingly not hungover, which was truly unfair since most of his talk about never getting them was complete and utter bullshit. Liam was going to start believing the lies if he didn’t see the pathetic miserable version of Niall that moaned about headaches and stomachaches in person. 

Niall nicked a piece of cheese then leaned on the counter next to Zayn, watching him work. “So, Louis.” 

Zayn nodded, flipping over a few pieces of bacon before going for a plate for them. “Louis.” That was most of it, he existed and Liam was gone for him. They didn’t need to say it to convey it. Niall reached for another piece of cheese and Zayn smacked his hand.

“You know who he reminds me of…” Niall started, clearly not wanting to come outright with it. If it was someone fun or interesting, he would have bounced past the question, but instead he was waiting, watching Zayn as if hoping he would figure it out without him having to say it. 

“Who?” Because if it was that bad, Zayn wanted to know. Not that he could do anything about the trainwreck waiting to happen, but it was always best to know if there was a light at the end of a tunnel or a painful death. 

“Becks.”

Zayn was lucky he didn’t drop the plate. Instead, he set it down with a hand that was shaking more than he’d like, mind flashing to Becca, the good days, when she used to make Liam smile. She still wasn’t around, hardly at all, though Liam had insisted his daughter had inherited all her traits or picked them up during the few encounters they had. Harriet knew who her mother was, but also knew she didn’t have a relationship with her. It was a lot for a five year old, but Harriet wasn’t the average five year old it seemed. 

“You don’t really think so,” Zayn started, but he could see it. The way Liam blushed around Louis, the soft smile, the gentle tease, the way he laughed. It was all so very Becca-like. 

“Seems to be more of an adult, you know,” Niall said. “Has a job and everything, but for a bloke…” 

“He’s a lot like her.” Zayn didn’t say anything else, putting the food on plates, giving that his entire focus. It was like if he let himself down that train of thought it would consume him and he wouldn’t be able to complete the simplest tasks. Either that or it was better to focus on the task rather than the fear that Liam’s entire world could come crashing down again. 

Niall snagged a piece of bacon off the plate before moving closer to Zayn, hooking an arm around his waist. “I don’t think he’s that bad though. I like him, a lot. Even I want to see him again. I guess it’s just that Liam has a type.” 

Zayn sighed, leaning back into Niall with a nod. “I don’t want to see him get hurt.” 

“Neither do I. We’ll keep an eye on it.” Niall pressed a kiss against Zayn’s temple before grabbing another piece of bacon and starting towards the stairs. “I’m going to rouse the dead. You’re in charge of making his tea!” 

\---------

Liam was a mess, one of Niall’s snapbacks shoved down on his forehead to keep out the sun, but he was there, being the best dad. Of course Niall and Zayn were doing their best to help, watching Harriet run from around their legs on the sidelines to the middle of the pitch as her game started. Zayn had given Karen a look when she showed up with Harriet wearing a mismatched bright pink bow tied into her curls, but once Harriet was out there on the pitch, Zayn was glad she had it. The bobbing pink ribbon was the only way he could keep an eye on her in the herd of small children chasing after the ball. 

It wasn’t the kind of thing where they kept score, the parents cheered for everyone, either team and every moment was celebrated. Zayn knew it would be different in a year or two, but for now, it was a nice thing to see, kids having fun and parents not acting like they were trying to prove something through their kids. At one point, towards the end of the match, Harriet broke free. She was headed for the wrong goal, but she had the ball alone and was making break for it, dribbling as fast as her little legs would carry her. Niall was jumping up and down and while Zayn wasn’t much for shouting, he found himself doing just that. There was something about being Harriet’s uncle that brought out the loud and ridiculous in him. 

When she kicked the ball into the goal, Niall went nuts yelling like she’d just scored the winning goal at the World Cup. It made Harriet’s eyes light up, and even Liam, poor Liam who looked like he might vomit or curl into a ball and cry, managed a yell or two. Harriet waved at him, bright and happy, like that was all that mattered, and, from the look on Liam’s face, he felt the same way. 

Zayn spotted Louis before Liam did, surprised he recognized the teacher in the football kit with his hair pushed back in a headband, but suddenly he was there, smirking up at Liam and speaking to him. Zayn shifted closer to Niall, nudging him, which was enough to get Niall to look up as well, grin breaking out on his features. 

“Funny how that worked out, eh?” Niall asked, slinging his arm around Zayn’s shoulder so he could watch the duo better without looking like he was staring.

“My thoughts exactly,” Zayn mumbled, trying not to get caught up in the warmth of Niall’s presence. Usually he was fine with Niall being close, used to it, but sometimes it caught him off guard just how much he liked it.

“I think Liam is failing at it,” Niall tutted, just as Liam shifted his feet and tugged at his shirt, both clearly uncomfortable and still very hungover. 

“Louis doesn’t seem to care,” Zayn added, watching Louis smile and lean in to touch the hat Liam was wearing. They were clearly flirting, Louis’ smug look that said he knew what he was doing and Liam’s shoulders sloped in a way Zayn hadn’t seen since he’d watched him get hit on at one of the first parties they went to. It painted quite the picture, but Zayn doubted either of them noticed anything outside of one another. The whistle blew for the end of the game and Zayn looked back towards the pitch, nodding towards Harriet. “Come on, grab her, give them another moment.” 

Niall got it, hurrying forward to scoop Harriet up, spinning her in a circle as she laughed. “Did you see my goal, Uncle Nail? Did you?” 

“Of course I did. World Cup worthy. Tell your daddy he can get ready to be a season ticket holder because one day you’re going to be the big star!” Niall tossed her up in the air. The stunt made the air rush out of Zayn’s lungs, but Niall caught her easily enough. It was amazing that as good as Zayn was with Harriet, Niall never seemed to do anything but act completely on her level. He always understood her, even when she was well into small kid gibberish. 

Niall put Harriet up on his shoulders while she re-told them what had happened in the game they had just watched, but from what Zayn could gather, it was far more exciting in the herd of children than outside of it. 

“Then James pulled on Stevie’s shirt,” she said, waving at her father when Liam finally looked away from Louis enough to notice them. “So Stevie bit him.” 

“Sounds a little violent for muppet football,” Zayn mused at Niall who did his best to shrug with a five year old on his shoulders as they made their way back to Liam. 

“She’s too big for that,” Liam chastised, trying to get Harriet down from Niall’s shoulders, but both Niall and Harriet weren’t having it, at least until Harriet spotted Louis when she looked up from talking to Niall. She shrieked his name and Zayn had to guess that was a good sign, that Harriet loved her teacher as much as Liam was starting to. He’d already warmed up to Louis but watching him chat with Harriet, Harriet smushing down Niall’s hair in her excitement, made Zayn like him even more. Clearly, Louis wasn’t just great with kids, he was great with Liam’s kid. That was as good a sign as any. 

“You look like one of the footballers my daddy thinks are cute on the telly,” Harriet told Louis, smiling as she made the connection, but Liam looked like he might clamp his hand on his daughter’s mouth if it would take the words back. 

“Do I now?” Louis asked, smirking at Liam who shook his head violently and babbled through some apology or something, but Zayn couldn’t hear it because Niall had started laughing and it made it too hard to hold back his own laughter. Liam managed to get himself out of the situation on his own though, mumbling something just for Louis, who only smiled more. Then they were waving goodbye to Louis who’d nudged Liam gently before going his own way to where he was parked on the other side of the pitch. 

Once Niall and Harriet were headed to the car with a promise of ice cream, Zayn looked up at Liam, one eyebrow raised. If Liam had any idea of hiding the crush, there was no point now, not when it was so plainly written all over his face. It helped that Louis seemed to like the attention at least and probably had some similar feelings on his end. “He does seem to have taken an interest in you,” Zayn started gently, testing the waters to see what sort of reaction he’d get from a sober Liam who’d just been approached by Louis rather than the other way around. 

“Because I’m almost his age and he’s teaching my daughter.” Liam said it quickly, like he was trying to convince himself as much as Zayn. 

Zayn hummed and nodded. “Right. And he does look like your type.” He was like Becca, but without all the obvious flaws. Zayn didn’t doubt that Louis had flaws, but Becca’s biggest was Harriet and Louis seemed to adore Harriet. 

“I don’t have a guy type,” Liam insisted, which almost made Zayn roll his eyes. It was like Liam didn’t see it. 

“You do too,” Zayn countered. “It’s all Lallana, Christian Bale, and Louis.” Zayn could tell he had Liam by the way Liam didn’t deny it and just shook his head. 

“Not happening.” 

“Whatever you say,” Zayn said, looking up at Liam, knowing his words were leading. Sometimes it helped to let Liam get somewhere on his own, not push, but maybe just point him in the right direction. “I just want you to be happy.” _And a lot less lonely_ went without saying. 

“Funny,” Liam said, brightening as he latched on to something that Zayn had missed. “I want the same thing for you.” 

“I am happy,” Zayn insisted, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole. “We’re happy. It’s just unconventional.” 

“Unconventional in that you’re sleeping together, but you’re not really together.” 

Zayn had a choice there. He could let Liam believe what he thought was true or he could tell Liam what wa true. In reality, he wasn’t sleeping with Niall beyond the true meaning of the word, and while they were used to cuddles, there wasn’t any sex involved. 

He’d convinced himself years ago that he’d stopped waiting, but he was still single and, despite the fact that Niall was being set up every other weekend, so was Niall. It was like they’d found a comfortable way to coexist and they’d stuck with it, not bringing in anything new to upset the balance. Only Zayn was pretty sure Liam wouldn’t get that. So he nodded. He hated lying to Liam, but it was easier for Liam to think that was what was going on rather than explaining that he was still in love with someone he couldn’t even get close to. 

“Yeah. Mostly,” Zayn said, waving Liam off as they got closer to the car. Niall was already there with Harriet, talking to her as she climbed into her carseat and he helped buckle it. “We’ll sort it out. We always do.” 

Zayn watched with a heavy heart as Niall ducked down to whisper something to Harriet before the two of them both waved at him. It was a shame Zayn wasn’t as sure they would sort it out as he used to be. 

\---------

The best sort of days were the ones where Niall got home from his shift at the radio station before Zayn left for the gallery. When that was the case, Zayn woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs and he knew he’d get a good breakfast in before he headed off to work. There would be coffee waiting for him and a smiling Niall who didn’t mind that Zayn was still in sweats, curling up at their little table and not helping with breakfast. They’d found a perfect rhythm, working together, minding each other’s spaces, without getting in the way. Zayn loved it. He felt like he had a full time boyfriend, even without the physical benefits. 

His phone rang, Liam’s ringtone, which pulled his eyes away from where Niall was cooking and humming whatever pop song had been playing on the show to look for his phone instead.

“Early for him to call, isn’t it?” Niall asked, heading for the table with a plate of toast, half with jam for himself and half plain for Zayn. 

Zayn shrugged, looking at the picture of Liam and Harriet that came up before answering. “Hey Li, putting you on speaker,” he said, before hitting the button. “Niall’s here.” 

“Hey Li!” 

“Hey Nialler…” There was a pause. Zayn could hear the click of Liam’s blinker and, after checking the time again, he guessed Liam had just come from dropping Harriet at school. 

“How’s Louis?” Zayn prompted, guessing that was what Liam was calling about. Half their phone calls lately were about the teacher, more good than bad, but typically if Liam wasn’t launching into a Harriet story, he was calling about Louis. 

“Still gorgeous?” Niall offered, which was enough to get a groan out of Liam. 

“Of course he is, but he’s not happy with me. Or he wasn’t. I’m not sure anymore.” Liam sounded pained, which had Niall grabbing the last of their breakfast and sitting at the table with Zayn. 

“What happened?” 

Liam sighed heavily on his end and Zayn looked up at Niall who shrugged. “You remember that mum, the one with the little boy who had the playdate with Hattie?” 

“The one flirting with you?” Zayn clarified, feeling like Liam was talking around the part where the mum in question had spent half the field trip Liam had chaperoned trying to pull Liam. Sure, he’d organized for Harriet to go on a playdate with her son, but Zayn wasn’t naive to think that this was what the call was about.

“Right. We went out. It was awful,” Liam complained. “And Louis, he didn’t seem happy about it.” 

“You went out with her? You didn’t even like her! You said you thought her kid pushed Harriet off the playset in the park!” 

“She was fine, Niall,” Zayn said gently, not wanting to rile Liam up more than he already was. “Kids bounce back.” 

“Alright, sure, but Liam, you were still pretty sure you didn’t like her. Why go out with her?” 

“I know! But she asked and I didn’t have a good excuse not to,” Liam said and Zayn shook his head. Of course Liam had gone out with her because she’d asked. She wasn’t the first person that Liam had gone out with since his divorce, despite the fact that he didn’t seem interested in dating. Liam complained often about how his mother or her friends set him up and how uncomfortable it was to date someone he didn’t want to be with. Zayn understood that because he knew who he wanted and trying to go out with anyone else felt like a lie, both to them and to himself. Given that that was almost as awkward as saying no, he did his best to avoid the situations all together, something Liam didn’t have as much luck with. 

“Not liking someone is usually a good excuse,” Niall supplied, but Liam huffed a frustrated noise at him. 

“You know I’m not good at that.” 

This time it was Niall’s turn to make the frustrated noise. “I know that, but why be with someone if they’re not what you want?” 

Zayn concentrated on his food while he let Niall take over his normal role in these conversations. He and Liam had gone around enough times and it didn’t seem like Zayn was getting through. Maybe Niall would have more luck.

"How do I know what I want?" Liam asked, as if that was some sort of new concept he’d never thought of before.

"You know who you want." Something in Niall’s tone makes Zayn look up. Niall concentrated on the phone with a strange intensity in his eyes, something different there. "You owe it to yourself and to Louis to try, mate. You've got to at least try."

"It’s hardly that simple, plus he’s got to speak to me again."

While not the most positive answer, it wasn't Liam denying his interest in the teacher anymore and Niall looked up at Zayn with a smile and a thumbs up, a sort of silent ‘that sounds like progress’ look. Zayn remained stuck on the distant look in Niall’s eyes just moments before.

The advice he’d given Liam was from the heart, but Zayn couldn’t piece together any past relationship that would have left Niall with an experience like that. It had been years since NIall had dated anyone seriously and yet he sounded like he had someone clearly in mind that he wanted to. Who was he waiting for? Why was he waiting for anyone? He could have whoever he wanted. Zayn had seen it in the past, all Niall had to do was set his mind to someone and eventually they were his. Why, in all their conversations of what Liam was going through, had Niall never brought up his own heartbreak, if that was what it was? Zayn liked being the person who knew Niall best, how he took his tea and toast and and what side of the bed he liked to sleep on and all the other tiny things that he had picked up on through the years, but if Niall didn’t feel like he could come to Zayn with something so huge, what kind of friend was he? Apparently, the hypocritical kind considering the giant secret he’d kept to himself for years. He didn’t have a right to be upset about it, but that didn’t stop him. 

“Did he say something that makes you think he won’t?” Niall asked, bringing them back to the real point, leaving Zayn mentally stumbling to catch up with him. Louis was what mattered, not some mum that had cornered Liam into an unwanted date or where the sage advice that Niall had given Liam had come from. Zayn and Niall had talked about the Louis issue at length and everything about him said he liked Liam back just as much as Liam liked him. They’d taken it upon themselves to be the best friends possible and push the issue, and doing that didn’t mean getting caught up in something that Zayn hadn’t predicted his best friend to say.

“He didn’t say anything. But god, this morning, the other mums were looking at me like I was some sort of cad for not going out with her again and I felt like a giant idiot and he was right there. He saw the whole thing.” 

Zayn raised an eyebrow and Niall covered his face with his hand. It was good Liam couldn’t see them, he’d probably freak out more than he was already. He never was good at dealing with their amusement in his self imposed suffering. 

“So he didn’t actually say anything?” Zayn asked, slowly, wanting to infuse some calm into the situation, pleased he could manage it with his own mind racing. 

On the other end of the line, Liam hesitated. “Erm. No. He didn’t. He actually seemed, well, he smiled at me.” 

Niall had to bit his fist to keep from laughing at how ridiculous Liam was being, how blind to the fact that Louis was nuts about him, which left Zayn to keep talking, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice so Liam wouldn’t be upset. “Smiling is usually a good sign, mate.” 

 

“You think?” 

“He knows,” Niall supplied, voice full of his suppressed laughter. “Stop worrying and just ask him to snog you already.” 

“I can’t do that!” Liam sounded properly scandalized at the situation, which had even Zayn breaking into giggles with Niall. “I hate you both,” Liam added, though there wasn’t anything more than embarrassment in his voice. 

“You love us!” Niall crowed back. “Just ask him out already. Go to work.” He reached over and hit the hang up button, which meant Zayn would get anywhere between four or eight text messages once Liam was at his dad’s shop, but it would be worth it if it got Liam to strongly consider doing something about Louis. “He’s gotten bloody ridiculous over Louis,” Niall said with a shake of his head, finishing off the last of his food before getting up and dropping his dish in the sink. 

“He’s in love,” Zayn said with a shrug. “It makes people do ridiculous things.” Wasn’t Zayn walking proof of that? He’d thought, over the years, that he’d stop being in love with Niall, but he still was, just as much as ever. He still, even now, wanted to get up, wrap his arms around Niall’s waist from behind while he washed dishes and just be with him. 

He could though. He could do that, walk across their tiny kitchen and do just that. Niall might even lean back into the touch, touch his wrist where it would be on Niall’s stomach, murmur something sweet. But it wouldn’t matter. It never mattered. That wasn’t how things were, that wasn’t what was going on between them. Zayn loved Niall with every inch of his being and Niall loved him as his handsy best friend he’d slept with a few times. That was it. 

“Hey? You in there?” Niall asked, waving sponge at Zayn. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m here. Did you say something?” 

Niall laughed and shook his head, turning back to the food. “I said, Grimmy’s set me up with this girl, Angela, for tomorrow night, but I was thinking I’d just bring her to the opening? Good impression doing something artsy and you know, then I don’t miss your opening. That alright?” His voice lacked the usual enthusiasm that Niall had when it came to his openings which had Zayn biting his lip. 

 

No. It wasn’t even remotely close to alright, but Zayn still nodded. “Are you sure? You don’t have to. You’ve been to tons of them. You can always go somewhere quieter where you won’t have to run into me or Tim.” 

“Why would I not go?” Niall asked, making a face at Zayn. “The most interesting thing about me is that the fact that I’m best friends with an artist. Plus, I don’t want to miss it, I haven’t seen anything you’ve been working on.” 

Zayn wasn’t at all sure what Niall was saying or why he was doing it. Did he not want to go on the date then? Was he feeling like Liam did, backed into a corner Grimmy had put him in and saying yes because he felt like he should? Zayn shook the thought away. “Yeah, that’s fine then. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.” 

“Wouldn’t dare.” Niall glanced over his shoulder with a grin, which Zayn forced himself to echo until Niall turned back around. The smile fell instantly and Zayn had to force himself not to feel more than he already did. 

\-----------

Nick found him at the gallery opening, hiding off to the side, watching Niall and a brunette he could only assume was Angela, wander around the gallery opening. She was different than the last girl Niall had been set up with, more athletic than petite, though she was still shorter than Niall. Still, Zayn hoped he didn’t have to meet her. He didn’t have it in him to pretend. 

“Brought you this,” Nick said, handing off a spare glass of wine. He took a place next to Zayn, watching the couple just like Zayn was, humming to himself while sipping at his wine. “I thought she might be a good match, into sports and all,” he said conversationally, like he hadn’t set Niall up with every girl he’d gone out with in the past month, like he hadn’t been making Zayn’s life miserable for the past month. It was even worse that it was the confirmed bachelor doing all this work, trying to find Niall someone when he was so adamantly against love himself, but Zayn had always wondered if the whole song and dance was a sham put up by an eternally single man. Or maybe he was just bitter towards Nick as a whole. 

“I’m sure it’ll be great and they’ll have adorable, sporty children,” Zayn quipped, tone dripping with disdain. He didn’t trust himself not to gulp down the drink he’d been handed so he settled for just looking into it. 

“Don’t think they will, actually. I thought maybe when they got here, but he spent half an hour explaining your paintings and she stopped touching him. I think he blew it. Again.” 

Zayn snorted and looked away, taking in Nick instead. His hair was still quiffed, but not to the old heights, and he was wearing a new shirt, something from his clothing line that was just a little too flashy for the rest of the world. He’d sell it on his name alone, but really, anyone else would look stupid. Nick looked stupid. “What are you doing here?” 

“Seeing society? Your little gallery is the hotspot in this part of town.” That was very true. Zayn had built the gallery up to a frequent drop in for all sorts of people with a wide variety of art on the walls, and at this point, Tim and Zayn had hired two more people to keep it running. 

“Whatever. You’re spying on him.” Zayn knew Nick better than that. 

“Of course I am. And you’re doing the same.” 

“He’s the one that suggested bringing her here. I just didn’t say it was a bad idea.” 

“Strike two for Niall then.” Grimshaw shrugged again, looking back at the couple that weren’t very couple-like. 

“Sports metaphor? Really?” 

“Is that what it is?” 

Zayn rolled his eyes and shoved Nick's arm slightly. He laughed and nudged Zayn back. They went back to watching Niall, seeing Angela yawn and try and hide it behind her glass. 

“I really thought that was a good match,” Nick sighed, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t you just set him up with Finchy? You know Finchy likes him,” Zayn said, not sure he’d be okay with that either, but at least Matt would have the decency not to look bored while out with Niall. 

Nick laughed and shook his head. “I can’t. One, I couldn’t bear to be around them all the time if it did work, but two Niall only has eyes for one man and he’s not going to change his mind about that any time soon.” Zayn narrowed his eyes, staring hard at Nick, as if glaring at him might get him to take that back. Nick just laughed at him. “Don’t look at me like that, Zee,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve seen how much he loves you.” 

“He doesn’t, not like that.” 

Nick shrugged and took a gulp of his drink. “Shame, that.” There was a pause then Nick was moving in front of him, blocking his view of Niall. “Meet us at the pub later. After you’re done here.” 

“Who is we?” Zayn was pretty sure it wouldn’t make a difference, but it gave him time to stall to come up with a real excuse. 

“Me, Finchy, Fi, Aimee, whoever. You know everyone. You’re our friend too. It’s better than going home and waiting on him to get there.” 

Zayn hated that Nick knew, that he knew exactly what Zayn would do when he got done with the opening. It made him glare at Nick again, but Nick didn’t seem phased, just raising an eyebrow as if he knew everything already. “Maybe.” 

“Yes,” Nick corrected. “You should. It’d be good for you to get out every now and again. As soon as you’re done here, we’ll see you there.” He turned on his heel before Zayn could protest again, melding into a group of people nearby with the ease of having known them his whole life, but Zayn was pretty sure they were complete strangers. That was Nick though, charming to death and Zayn knew he’d be meeting him later, even if he didn’t want to.

It was a few hours later before Zayn finished up, in a better mood once Niall and his date had vacated the premises. It was one thing to know he was dating, but something else to be forced to watch it. The opening had done very well though, and he’d even sold three pieces himself, as well as chatted up several enthusiasts and artists. It was a good night, which made him feel more interested in meeting up with Nick’s friends at the pub a few blocks away from the gallery. He found Matt first, at the bar, and helped him carry drinks back to the booth they’d secured. The girls were there, reaching for their glasses, but Zayn almost stopped dead when he saw who else was there. 

Niall was pressed against Nick’s side, listening closely to him, eyes downcast and focused on his beer. He wasn’t smiling and Nick didn’t seem to be either. Whatever it was they were talking about, it was serious. Instantly Zayn wanted to reach out, to be there to comfort whatever hurt or frustration that had taken Niall’s smile away, but once he was at the table and Niall spotted him, the serious look was gone, the smile he always had for Zayn back in place. 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Niall said, voice slightly slurred and cheeks pink, a dead giveaway that the beer in his hand was far from his first.

“Nick insisted. I thought you’d be out with your date,” Zayn said, glancing at Nick who gave him a pointed look then turned away, clearly on purpose. 

Niall shrugged one shoulder then slumped so he was leaning against Zayn more. “She wanted to go home. Wasn’t feeling well or summat.” Niall’s tone suggested he knew better, that it hadn’t worked out and his date had bailed on him, but he was going for casual, which meant he didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Bummer, that,” Zayn said instead, and Niall shrugged again, nestling in closer. 

“Rather be here anyway.” 

Zayn’s mind wanted to run away with that, assume that Niall meant next to him, not crowded into a booth with their friends, drinking at one of their favorite pubs. They were two completely different things and Zayn forced himself to assume the second, that it was just Niall’s friends he’d rather be with than a girl that wasn’t interested in him. It had to be that. 

It was hard to ignore the way that Nick was watching them though, eyebrows going between raised and furrowed every time Niall laughed hard enough at something that he tucked his face into the crook of Zayn’s neck, or Zayn watched Niall tell a story, elbow propped on the table, close enough to be in range of his flailing arms, but not moving to safety. Every time, Zayn looked up to see Nick staring, clearly without his usual smile, but something else there instead, something fiercer. 

Zayn did his best to ignore it though, letting himself focus on cheering up Niall after his failed date instead. He deserved that. It was an odd place to be in, to both not want Niall’s dates to work out and at the same time want him to be happy, but Zayn thought he toed the line well enough, at least until the end of the night when he had a stumbling Niall to get home and Nick caught his arm. Zayn let Niall lean on Fincham, making him blush pink at the contact, and gave Nick his best questioning look. 

Nick looked between Niall and Zayn a few times, clearly not sure what he wanted to say. “You’ll take him home, right?” he settled on, but he didn’t look like what he wanted to say. 

“I always do,” Zayn said, not sure what had changed. Nick knew that. Niall retold stories of nights out all the time on air and they always ended with Zayn tending to him. 

“I know that, but…” Nick trailed off, biting his lip while he thought again. “You do, don’t you? You...care.” 

Zayn felt this panic rise, dodging Nick’s eyes. No one had asked that in so long. Everyone that cared knew and no one new seemed bothered by them. “Of course I do.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Nick said, but cut himself off with the wave of a hand. Zayn raised an eyebrow, expecting Nick to go on, but Nick shook his head. “Take our boy home,” he said.


	17. Chapter 17

“Found Avengers, pirates, princesses, and Mickey Mouse,” Niall said, holding up the coloring books to show Zayn. 

“Perfect.” Zayn held out his arms for Niall to add the books to the pile of Christmas gifts for Harriet in the trolley, which currently included Elsa and Anna dolls, the biggest collection of crayons and water colors Zayn could find, and two sketch books for all of Harriet’s creations. 

“I still feel like we need something else. Maybe a tiny football kit?” Niall wandered a few feet away, drifting towards the children’s clothes section as Zayn followed. 

“There’s no way we can decide on a team,” he pointed out, considering Liam and his father cheered for their local, Niall’s club was on the other side of the midlands, and Zayn couldn’t be arsed. He supposed he liked Man City’s colors best, though he never said that out loud for fear of punishment. 

“True, true,” Niall mused, looking through little girl dresses and humming to himself. Zayn was hit with a flash, a thought of this being their life together, Niall in his winter coat and a scarf, cheeks pink from how warm it was in the store, picking out things for their child, a whole future ahead of them. It made his head spin, which was undoubtedly from the heaters and too much sugar the past four days. Niall had officially declared it Christmas and brought home nothing but baked goods and pastries every day and Zayn had indulged. It certainly wasn’t from the thought of a life with Niall, really with Niall.

“I still need something else,” Niall was saying abandoning dresses and heading for little tiny shoes instead. “I’ve got to make up for not being there.” 

Zayn tried not to sigh, but it was too hard not to. He wished Niall was coming with him up to Wolverhampton for Boxing Day like he’d done the year before, but this time Niall had actual time off beyond the specified holidays, so he was going home to Ireland and didn’t want to cut into his family time since he so rarely saw them. Zayn hated being away from him at the holiday, but complaining about it made him sound like an ass. “You don’t have to make up for anything,” he said instead.

“Of course I do. I already got you and Liam something smashing, so now there’s just Harriet. She’s the most important anyway.” Niall grinned and moved back a few steps to bump into Zayn, then stayed closer. “What do you think I should get her?” 

“You already got her two dolls she’s going to have a fit about,” Zayn pointed out and kept his steps even with Niall, wanting him close. This time of year was always the hardest. Zayn hadn’t even celebrated Christmas until he met Liam and Niall, but now that he did, he’d gotten into the spirit and the feeling of it. It was all warmth and closeness to people that mattered and for Zayn that was always Niall. It was the time of year when Zayn wanted more than their friendship the most. He wanted to not just have their elbows touching as they walked through the department store, but their hands linked together. He wanted to know that Niall would be there, spending the holiday with him and not jetting off to see his family. Or maybe that he was taking Zayn with him to see his family like a proper couple. 

“I know, but I should get her something else,” Niall said. “We’ve got Mr. Tommo to compete with now.” He flashed Zayn a grin that Zayn couldn’t help but answer. It was like Niall knew that he was sad and hurting, and knew exactly how to turn the mood around. 

“I don’t think we’re competing for favorite uncle with him,” he said. “I think it’s more like being replaced as best friend.” Which hurt, no matter how much Zayn wanted Liam to have a best friend in Wolverhampton. Liam was theirs and the idea of sharing him with someone else was painful. 

Niall laughed again, elbowing Zayn. “Hardly. I love Liam, but Louis wants Liam. He’s making a play for other daddy,” he said as if he knew everything. 

“You met him twice.” There was no way that Niall had seen that. Zayn had seen flashes of it, but he was more certain that Liam was crazy over Louis and Louis enjoyed the attention. 

“That was enough. I can tell. He’s as nuts over Liam as Liam is over him. I wonder how long it will take them to figure it out.” 

_Can’t be as long as you’ve taken._ How could Niall see that and not see how Zayn felt about him? Was he that clueless or did he not want Zayn that much? There was a time he seemed like he did, but they hadn’t been like that in ages. Maybe Niall was over it. Maybe he’d never been into it. “Maybe he’ll have news at the holiday,” Zayn said, forcing himself not to think about Niall and what Niall might and might not think. 

“Hope so. If not, you’ve got a job to do while you’re there,” Niall said, then something else in the store caught his eye. “Oh! Look! They’ve got tiny guitars,” he said dragging Zayn that way. Zayn doubted Harriet needed a guitar, but he followed anyway, bringing himself back into their shopping trip so he could keep Niall from blowing all his money on Harriet. 

\--------

For all of Zayn’s frustrations with Niall and what was going on with them, the Payne home on Boxing Day was exactly where Zayn needed to be. Liam’s parents were so warm and welcoming, telling stories from Christmas Eve over tea and holiday biscuits after they’d done gifts with Harriet. 

“Apparently, Liam knew Mr. Tommo,” Karen said, giving her son a little bit of a look and Liam flushed hot pink. Zayn had a guess that Karen had decided it meant something else and Liam wasn’t doing a good job of not giving himself away. 

“Mum,” Liam insisted. “He’s her teacher!” 

Karen made a noise like she hardly believed him and Liam grabbed Zayn’s arm, pulling him into the living room and away from his mother’s accusations. Harriet was already there, her dolls from Niall on either side of her and the coloring books and crayons spread out in front of her. She’d been as thrilled as expected at her gifts. Niall had done well despite not being able to be with them, giving Liam some sort of book that Zayn hadn’t gotten a good look at, but had made Liam smile fondly. It was odd to think that Liam and Niall had things between them that Zayn wasn’t a part of, but that had always been the case, hadn’t it? They were best as a group, but they still worked well individually. 

Zayn joined Harriet on the floor, smiling at the work she’d already done with her coloring book. Liam sat with him, looking over his shoulder for his mother, like she would have followed them to keep teasing her son, but she and Liam’s father had moved to the garden to take care of some sort of decoration. 

“It’s good your parents like him,” Zayn said first, looking at Liam, but Liam just shrugged, picking at the stocking candy that apparently he still got every year until he found something he wanted to eat. 

“You’ve met him; what’s not to like?” His tone was conversational, like it was nothing when Zayn knew better.

“Who?” a small voice asked as Harriet looked up and Zayn stuck his tongue out at her for being nosy, but it just made her laugh.

“Mr. Tommo.” 

The face made Harriet giggle, but the mention of her teacher her eyes lit up as well. “He’s the best,” she said, her voice and expression as earnest as her father’s could be. 

Zayn waved to her, giving Liam a pointed look that said that was a good sign too. Liam rolled his eyes and shifted, something around his neck catching Zayn’s attention. He leaned in, touching the medal hanging from its chain. It was impossible not to miss the way his friend tensed, but didn’t fight Zayn looking at it. “That’s new.” Liam wasn’t really the jewelry type. He was more of watch man than a necklace guy.

“Yeah, gift,” Liam said, sounding casual, but Zayn had a feeling it wasn’t that at all. He squinted at the medal, trying to figure out why he would have it. “Last I checked, you weren’t religious,” he said, because it didn’t quite make sense, at least not until he figured out which saint the medal was for. “Or is St. Louis as cheeky as it seems?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow at Liam. He kept his voice down, aware that Harriet was still there, but she was lost in coloring and explaining to one of her dolls why elephants could be purple if she wanted them to be. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Liam said, moving out of Zayn’s grasp and making him drop the medal. Once he did, Liam tucked it back inside his shirt. “I thought maybe, then I think no. He’s just being silly. Though it all seems like too much.” Zayn watched Liam think to himself, watched him get lost in it for a moment and he knew Liam was keeping something to himself. 

Zayn hummed, like he usually did when he wanted to keep Liam’s attention and draw his best friend out of his head. “Seems like it means something,” he pushed slightly. “And if it’s not a faith thing…” He left it open ended, a little bit of hope in it, to see if Liam would go with that, give into the idea and tell Zayn what he was thinking, just how deep the crush went. 

“It’s not,” Liam said after a moment, shaking his head. “It’s not. It’s probably just cheeky.” 

Leave it to Liam Payne to pretend that something that was so clearly there, just like Niall had said, wasn’t there at all. It was obvious before, but it was written all over Liam’s face now, how gone he was for Louis. “But you’re wearing it,” he said softly, wanting Liam to see what his friend was doing, how he actually felt and how clear it was to the world. 

Liam nodded slowly, not making eye contact with Zayn, and Zayn hated it. “Yeah, yeah, I am,” Liam admitted softly. Zayn waited for him to look up, but when he didn’t, Zayn reached out to wrap his arms around Liam, hooking his chin over his shoulder. If only Liam could see it. It was right there. It wasn’t just him. He could have everything he wanted if he just took the risk and stepped out on the ledge. 

“When’s Niall getting back?” Liam asked, clearly avoiding the topic of Louis, but landing on a sore spot of Zayn’s. The Christmas holiday had been hard, all alone in London, and it would have been worse if Zayn hadn’t needed to get an early start to get to Wolverhampton for brunch. They’d celebrated early, exchanging gifts on the couch under poorly strung twinkling lights and it had been a quiet, tender moment, but not the moment that Zayn wanted. 

“Two more days. It was all the vacation time he had and he told me he couldn’t not spend it on his family.” Zayn hated that he sounded sad. He’d hoped he could manage to keep it out of his voice, but it was impossible. He hated that Niall was far away, that he hadn’t gone with him, or that Niall hadn’t asked him to go along. He knew Harriet and Liam were why Niall hadn’t asked, wanting Zayn to be with them even if Niall couldn’t, but it would have been nice to know that Niall wanted Zayn with him. “I was hoping he’d be able to come up with me today, but no such luck,” he added, trying to cover up the sadness. 

Liam rubbed his hand over Zayn’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay to miss him, you know.” He was trying to be nice, but Zayn didn’t want to hear it. 

“Just like it’s okay for you to like him,” Zayn shot back, though there was no malice behind it. 

Zayn watched Liam touch his chest, where the medal was under his shirt. “I don’t want to,” Liam said softly and Zayn hated it for him. It was a hard feeling and Zayn knew it too well. 

“Neither do I.” 

Silence fell between them at that, the two of them still curled close to each other and Zayn guessed that Liam was thinking of Louis as much as he was of Niall. They were in the same boat, caught up in emotions that neither of them wanted, but at least Liam’s were more manageable. Zayn had hope he would get over it, that after so many years of not being with Niall physically, he’d get over him emotionally, but it hadn’t worked out that way. He still loved Niall just as much as he had the first day. 

“We’re a right mess, aren’t we?” Liam said after a few minutes and Zayn nodded against his shoulder, closing his eyes. Right messes indeed. “You have to tell him.” That got Zayn to open his eyes and look up at Liam pointedly, sure he hadn’t heard him right. There was no way he’d push like that, would he?

 

“I could say the same to you.” 

“I have circumstances that make telling difficult.” Liam waved at Harriet then got up to make more tea, which Zayn wasn’t about to let him get away with. He gave Liam a tiny head start so it wasn’t as obvious, but followed after him nonetheless. 

“So do I!” Zayn’s situation was probably worse than Liam’s, considering he had a decade worth of back and forth hinging on it. 

“Like what? You live with yours. You’re practically with him. You just have to tell him you only want to be with him and want him to only be with you. He’s not blind! He knows!”

That was hardly the true and Zayn shook his head. He wasn’t with Niall, not like Liam thought. Liam still thought they were sleeping together but not together, but that wasn’t the case. There was a precious balance between them and Zayn couldn’t tip the scales. Not to mention, he’d been the one to tell Niall to stop, to insist they had to stop. He couldn’t go back on that now, could he? “It could ruin everything!” 

“It could ruin nothing beyond his chances of dating Emma Watson. Even then, maybe not because I feel like everyone should deserve a pass for Emma Watson.” Liam filled the kettle then set it on the stove, as if the conversation was over, but Zayn wasn’t letting him weasel his way out of it that easily.

“What about you? What’s yours going to ruin?”

“Harriet’s education.”

Zayn gave Liam his best skeptical look, not buying that for a second. “Why? Because her second dad is a teacher? Honestly I think that would better her education because she’d get learning both at home and at school.” Yes, he was taking it half a step too far, but Zayn had a good feeling that Liam was that far gone already. 

“How the hell did you wind up on second dad? That’s at least nine steps ahead of just wanting to kiss him.”

“Because I know you. A few months ago? You were lusting. Now? You’ve moved into full on pining. You’re just as bad off as I am.” Zayn knew he was pushing as hard as he had the day that he showed up at Liam’s flat to knock him out of his depression over Becca, but Liam deserved this. He deserved to be happy. Someone did. 

“Even if I am. He’s not. I’d rather wait for it to go away then try and have it all taken away. I don’t want to get my heart broken again.” Liam’s voice was weak, like tears were threatening, and no amount of fidgeting with mugs could hide the fact that his hands were starting to shake. Zayn gave in on the fight then, reaching for Liam and wrapping him up in a tight hug. There were things that Liam needed to do, to get over the hurt he’d let himself get drug under, but Zayn could only do so much. 

“It’ll be fine. If that’s what you want, it’ll be fine. We’ll help.” He wanted so much more for Liam, but he got it. Sometimes there was only so far someone could be pushed before they had to be left to do it on their own. 

“You should tell him at New Year’s,” Liam said quietly, turning Zayn’s thoughts from his best friend to himself. “Make it a resolution or just kiss him at midnight.”

Zayn didn’t answer, just nodded after a long while. He should do that. He should tell him, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if he could. He knew Liam was doing the same thing he was doing for him though, trying to make him happy. It was a shame they were both stuck in the same place. 

\------

He’d been invited to stay past Boxing Day and, with no one waiting for him at home, Zayn agreed quickly. His plans changed though from holiday visits to caretaking when Harriet got sick right after Christmas and Liam’s father got the same flu. Liam proved right away that he wasn’t great at balancing taking care of an ill Harriet with everything else and his mother wasn’t able to help like she normally might. So while Karen was stuck having to nurse Geoff back to health, Zayn didn’t even think twice about slipping into his old role of backup caregiver and called the gallery to get a few more days covered so he could stay through the week. Tim had things under control and if he needed anything he knew he could call, so Zayn stayed, helping with laundry, running to the shops, and making sure Liam ate, while Liam took care of Harriet. It was a hard thing to watch, Liam nervous that something was severely wrong with Harriet beyond the upset stomach and cough, not to mention watching his favorite niece in pain, but Zayn busied himself with keeping Liam from falling apart. 

He’d planned on sticking around until Harriet was well, see her off to school and then grab lunch with Liam before heading home, but after waking up on her first day of feeling better, Harriet had hurried down the stairs to grab Zayn, worried about her father. When he made his way upstairs he found Liam in his bathroom, looking like death, and Zayn had a guess he wasn’t going home any time soon. 

The scene of a sick Liam had upset Harriet, but Zayn managed to distract her with getting ready for school and, once she’d headed back down the hall to her room, he put Liam back to bed. After he got her something for breakfast and explained that her daddy wasn’t feeling well like she hadn’t been, her concerns seemed to ease. He did his best to answer her questions about how Liam had gotten sick, but he hoped someone else would explain germs to her because he was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten that entirely right. Her spirits were back where they should have been by the time he’d gotten her to school, bounding into her classroom to throw her arms around Louis. The teacher grinned brightly and instantly looked behind her, but the moment he spotted Zayn, the smile fell away. 

“Expecting someone else?” Zayn asked, doing his best to look innocent in the question, even though he knew better.

Louis frowned, glancing about then shrugging. “Maybe? Though also, maybe not.” He looked sheepish, but it didn’t look like a familiar emotion for him. Zayn originally suspected that Liam had skimped on the stories of Christmas Eve, but now he was sure of it. Something must have happened. 

“It’s not that,” Zayn promised, not sure what ‘that’ was, but with the way Louis’ shoulders dropped, he must have been worried about something. Maybe he was reading into Zayn’s presence the wrong way, seeing more than just a friend helping another out. “Li’s just sick. Got the flu that was going on around. I was still here from the holiday and decided to help with Hattie while he rested.” 

Louis’ face ran through about six emotions, the first being relief and after a flurry, landing on panic. “Does he need anything? Did he go to the doctor?” 

Zayn bit back a laugh, trying to be serious, but it was so, so obvious how Louis felt about Liam. That Liam’s feelings were returned was a relief in it of itself, but Zayn hoped the two men sorted themselves out quickly enough. “He woke up with it this morning,” Zayn explained. “But I’ve got it. He’ll be fine.” 

Louis didn’t look convinced of that at all and like he was considering walking out the door of the classroom, right up until one of his students called out to him and drug his attention that way. Zayn took the moment to duck out, not wanting to be forced to defend his ability to make sure Liam didn’t die, but also to keep from laughing in Louis’ face over how adorable they were. 

After a day of making Liam take medicine and get some much needed rest, as well as buffing up on his own round of vitamin C and fluids to keep from catching it as well, Zayn found himself standing outside the school early enough to be one of the first ones there for pick-up. When Harriet and her class emerged, she bounced towards him, throwing her arms around him. Louis wasn’t far behind her, holding out a blue piece of paper, covered in glittery and sparkling in the afternoon winter sun. 

“Look, Uncle Zee,” Harriet said, pointing towards the card. “I made Daddy a get better card.” Zayn took the card from Louis, studying the drawing on the front then flipping inside it to see the picture of Harriet and her dad and the note, as well as another note at the bottom from someone with much nicer handwriting. 

When he looked up Louis was biting his lip, clearly anxious, which was another emotion he seemed to be struggling with. “We just want him to be better,” he said softly and Zayn nodded. 

“Me too,” he told Louis with a small, knowing smirk. “I’m sure he’ll love it,” he added for Harriet, but glanced up at Louis, hoping he got the same message. 

\--------

“How’s he doing?” Niall was back in their London flat, awake later than he normally would be, but he’d said he was fine with waiting until Harriet went to bed for Zayn to call. They weren’t always that way, better at surviving with just texts when they were apart, but after so long without actually seeing each other, both of them were eager to catch up with the other in a different medium than words on a phone screen. They normally never went that many days without speaking and even with Zayn catching snippets of the radio show in the mornings when he dropped off Harriet, he still felt like he’d missed out on what was going on in Niall’s life. 

“Sick. But better. Probably worse in the way of love sick than he was before. He called me ‘Lou’ earlier when I dropped off the actual card that Louis had Hattie make for him.” Zayn flicked at the glitter still on his fingers. 

“He made him a card?” Niall sounded surprised, but pleased. 

“Well, Hattie made the card, but I’m sure it was Louis’ idea. He seemed like he wanted to take care of Liam himself. I was kind of worried he might just show up tonight, but I’m not sure he knows where Liam lives.” 

“That’s cute though. And good for Liam, right?” Niall asked. 

“Yeah, good for Liam if he’d admit that he actually likes the guy and doesn’t just like looking at him.” Which, with the way things were going, Zayn hoped that Liam could drag himself together and make it happen. 

“So you’re not coming home yet?” Niall asked, voice sounding tired, but sad at the same time, and it tugged at Zayn’s heartstrings. 

“Not yet. Maybe another couple of days. Tim says he has things under control.” And Zayn could check his email and answer calls remotely, and so far the gallery was operating fine. 

“Not at all arsed about Tim and how he’s handling it,” Niall grumped hard enough for Zayn to laugh.

“Just a couple of days,” he promised Niall, and he heard the sigh on the other end of the line. 

“Hurry up.” Niall sounded anxious somewhere under the sad, like something important hinged on Zayn coming home sooner rather than later. Zayn couldn’t deny the flip in his stomach at that, but pushed the feeling aside. It was probably just that he needed someone to make sure the trash got taken out or there was fresh milk in the fridge.

\-------

By the time Zayn finally made it home, Niall was asleep. It was well after ten and he knew Niall had to be up in a few hours to get to the station, but everything in Zayn wanted to do more than just linger in the doorway to Niall’s room. How long it had been since he’d let himself do more? 

When he saw him off, Liam insisted that Zayn tell Niall, that he stop suffering. Going back and forth for too long and never coming to a conclusion was killing him. Zayn knew he didn’t want to hear Niall say no, but he realized, standing alone and wanting nothing more than to be with Niall, that he had to do it. He couldn’t keep pretending. He wasn’t sure what had changed, what made him think that things would be different this time. Maybe it was seeing Liam in love again and seeing those first hints of love returned. It was easier to claim that what he had with Niall was enough when he wasn’t around someone else in love and it was easier to deal with the heartache when he wasn’t the only one in pain. Liam was better now though and Zayn’s heartache felt like a black mark on everything. He had to find himself some sort of resolution, even if it was bad news. They’d manage no matter what the answer was. They’d made it through worse. And if Niall didn’t want him, maybe Zayn could start getting over him. 

Niall shifted in his sleep, rolling over and leaving an open space in the bed next to him. Zayn knew better, he did, but before he could stop himself, he’d already toed out of his boots and pulled off his hoodie. Niall’s bed was unfamiliar, as their roles hasn’t been reversed since college, but Niall was the same, not moving despite the addition to his bed. If he told Niall and Niall ended everything between them, Zayn needed one more night, one more chance to feel Niall close to him, pressed against his skin, warm and real, before he lost it forever. 

He’d earned one more night. 

Niall didn’t wake up when Zayn wound his arm around his waist, but Zayn felt his breath even out as if he’d been waiting, even in his sleep, for Zayn to come home. It didn’t take Zayn more than a few minutes to fall asleep himself, nose pressed against the space between Niall’s shoulder blades, breathing in his favorite scent. 

When he woke, he was alone, reaching for the now cool side of the bed and squinting at the sun filtering in through the windows. It felt too achingly familiar and Zayn wished he’d stayed in his own room. How could he have been so stupid? Niall hadn’t even woken him up when he left, just left without a word. It made sense, Niall got up at a ridiculously early hour for work and there was no point in waking Zayn, but his own regret and fear took it too far. Zayn buried his face in Niall’s pillow, sure he hadn’t wanted Zayn there and that Zayn had crossed some sort of barrier that he didn’t even know was there. It was one thing to wake up alone in his own bed, because there had never been boundaries in his room, but this was Niall’s space, the one place in the flat where he was really alone, and Zayn had gone too far. 

He was mentally kicking himself right up until he drug himself into the bathroom for a shower. Niall had written on the mirror with a dry erase marker he’d stolen from work, right where Zayn had to look when he washed his hands. They’d found it was the best way to communicate with their schedules, because eventually, they always wound up in the bathroom. 

_Dinner?_

That was it. Just one word in Niall’s simple scrawl. It wasn’t anything new, them eating together. It was to be expected with Zayn being gone for as long as he was, but he was smiling when he reached for the marker to doodle a tiny cartoon version of himself holding up a sign that said yes. 

\--------

When Zayn got home, Niall didn’t let him get his coat off before he was wrapped up in a hug. His friend smelled fresh like his shampoo and sweet like Christmas, which meant he’d gotten into the cookies that Harriet had insisted Zayn take back to London with him. “Finally, you’re home,” Niall breathed and Zayn couldn’t help but smile. 

“I was home last night.” 

“That doesn’t count. You didn’t wake me up.” Niall even threw in a little pout with the comment, like he’d woken up Zayn all the times he’d crawled into Zayn’s bed. It was a good sign though, that maybe Niall wasn’t upset about what Zayn had done and it still fell in line with everything else they did. 

Niall stepped around him to get his own coat, grin fixed in place. “Ready for dinner? I was thinking we’d try this place a few blocks up? Nick suggested it.” 

“I thought you didn’t take Nick’s advice when it came to food,” Zayn teased, then shook his head and slipped out of his jacket, hanging it up. “And give me a minute. I’m covered in paint.” He waved his hands as proof. He’d gotten into the zone after all the work at the gallery had been finished and wound up attempting to paint his feelings. He wasn’t pleased with the outcome, but it was better to get it out of his head rather than in, especially if he planned to tell Niall everything. “Can I get cleaned up?” 

“I don’t, but he swears this place isn’t too posh and serves real food,” Niall insisted, but sighed and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry though, yeah? I’m...starving.” 

The hesitation was weird, like Niall had wanted to say something and went with something else instead. “You aren’t sure if you’re starving? That’s a new one.” Zayn waved over his shoulder then headed into the bathroom, turning on the water before stripping down to get under it. It wasn’t as warm as he would have liked, but nothing ever really was. One day they’d make enough money not to live in a dump. 

Well, provided they still lived together after Zayn told Niall that he was in love with him. 

The thought almost knocked the air out of Zayn’s lungs and he found himself clinging to the wall, shampoo in his hair as the precious seconds of hot water ticked away. He was going to tell him, he had to. He couldn’t keep dancing around it, not after last night, not after knowing how badly he wanted to be with Niall, but he was putting everything on the line. Maybe too much. Before he’d even realized he was doing it, the water ran cold and Zayn had to rinse the last of the shampoo out quickly before his teeth started chattering. 

He wrapped himself up in a towel, staring at the answer he’d left for Niall on the mirror, the little sign saying yes, and felt terrified at just what he was saying yes to. To so much more than just dinner, wasn’t it? Though, that might require Niall asking and, outside of dinner between best mates, Niall hadn’t asked for anything. Zayn was reading too far into it. 

In a fit of fear, he wiped away the image and the original question then headed for his room, shoulders trembling, though he was pretty sure it was from more than the goosebumps breaking out across his skin. He found boxers, jeans and a vest, but he was padding around in that, trying to find a warm jumper when Niall appeared at the door, his jacket on and Zayn’s slung over his arm, waiting for him. “You’re not dressed yet,” he said, brow drawing up in concern. “And you’re shaking.” Niall moved closer, one hand out to touch Zayn’s forehead. “You're not poorly, are you? Do you have what Liam had?” 

Zayn shook his head, trying hard not to lean into the touch. “No, no. I’m fine.” He found the jumper and stepped away as he pulled it on, not looking at Niall because it made everything in his head spin. There was no way he was going to get through dinner. Not a chance. “Look, Nialler,” he started, wringing his hands to keep them from shaking. 

“We don’t have to go to dinner,” Niall interrupted. “If you’re not feeling it. I just...I wanted to talk to you about something and I thought it might be best to take you out.” 

Talk to him about something? Niall was biting his lip like he was nervous and Zayn had to shake his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just...I need to talk to you about something too and I don’t think I can…” 

“Oh, well, what is it?” Niall interrupted. “I mean I can tell you mine too, if you want. It’s not quite how I planned, but…” 

“What?” Zayn wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but he knew they needed to talk. “Planned what?”

“What I was going to say, but you go first. It’s fine.” Niall waved at Zayn to start, even went to sit on his bed, smiling, but it was tight, the kind that didn’t light up his eyes. He still had Zayn’s jacket, one hand fisted in it like it was keeping him grounded. Something was bothering him as well. 

“You sure you don’t want to go first?” Zayn asked and Niall shook his head, biting his lip again, motioning again for Zayn to talk. Zayn sighed and looked at the ceiling, not sure how to start. He’d been thinking about it the entire way back from Wolverhampton, but he hadn’t gotten to the part where he put it into words. “So...it’s just that I...I…” He trailed off frowning, feeling nothing but fear and bile rise up in his throat and sure that throwing up while telling Niall what he was feeling wasn’t going to make it sound like good news. “I can’t be mates with you anymore.” 

Niall’s entire face fell and he coughed as if he were choking on his own breath. “I...I told Nick. I knew you’d figure it out and hate me, but he said that wasn’t the case.” Niall got up and shook his head, starting towards the door. “I’m sorry,” he said before Zayn could stop him. “I could move out or something.” 

“What?” It took Zayn a moment to figure out what he’d said, but once it clicked he was reaching for Niall again, pulling him back into the room. “No, no. I can’t...I can’t be just mates. I want more.” 

Niall let Zayn drag him back, but his face shifted to confusion. “What kind of more?” 

Zayn shrugged one shoulder. “Us, more. I want it. Us. That. I’ve wanted it forever. I…” The next three words got hung up in Zayn’s throat. 

“I love you,” Niall blurted, looking as surprised that he’d said it as Zayn was to hear it. 

“What?” 

“I have,” Niall went on, as if floodgates had been opened and he couldn’t stop. “I have for years. For longer than years, since before uni maybe? I don’t know. I thought...I thought I’d screwed it up so bad when you stopped wanting to be with me, but Nick, he said he saw it, he got it and that you might want to hear it. I wasn’t going to say anything, but he wouldn’t leave me alone about it and...” 

“You’re in love with me?” Zayn could feel the hope bubbling and he had to fight the urge to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. 

“Very much,” Niall admitted. “And I interrupted you. Sorry. You were….hopefully saying something good?” 

Zayn was nodding before he even found his voice, pressing in close to Niall and cupping his cheeks in his hands. “Yes. I love you too. I’m in love with you. I have been...forever.” The sense of relief that flooded over Zayn at saying it was tremendous, but it had nothing on warmth that flooded through him when Niall grinned and pressed his forehead against Zayn’s. If happiness was a color, it was the bright blue of Niall’s eyes, blurry with tears, but Zayn wasn’t sure if they were his or NIall’s.

“Forever?” 

“Since we were kids! Since you hit me with that stupid football.” Zayn could hear the tears in his voice, but he knew for once they weren’t sad. Niall was saying what he wanted to hear. Niall was just as gone for him and it was almost too good to be true.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Niall was kissing him, pressing soft, short kisses against his mouth, arms winding around Zayn’s waist and Zayn slipped his fingers into Niall’s hair. 

“I didn’t think you did. I didn’t think you even liked guys.” 

“I like you. I’ve always liked you. That you’re a guy never mattered.” 

Zayn could cry at that alone, nodding against Niall’s mouth, letting himself get caught up in kissing him harder, pressing closer even though there already wasn’t any space between them. “I don’t want to go to dinner,” he said between kisses, feeling Niall shake his head. 

“Me either.” That was enough to get both of them laughing, but Zayn pushed at Niall’s jacket. 

“I’ll order you takeaway later,” Zayn promised, kissing Niall’s neck. “But only after.” 

Niall guided Zayn back towards the bed, grinning. “I can wait.” 

They’d done this before, years ago, but the time didn’t matter. Niall still pulled at his jumper and vest with ease, shucking out of his jacket and shirt before they toppled onto the bed. There was still laughter in his kisses, but to Zayn it felt truer, as if he’d been holding back before. Maybe he had. Maybe he’d always wanted more, just like Zayn had, but had kept his heart as closed off as well. 

While it started with their normal flurry of limbs and clothes, trying to get naked as quickly as possible, before the high wore off, before they regretted what they were doing, once they were on the bed it naturally slowed down to something far different. They were finally taking their time. Zayn had enough sense to be there, to realize that it was more than just rushing to to steal a moment with Niall that he wouldn’t have to get back, but rather to really be with him. 

They didn’t need to hurry, despite the fact that part of Zayn desperately wanted to. He had time to pull Niall in for long kisses, kisses he’d never let himself have before, and they were returned with the same intensity. Niall took his time to run his hands over Zayn’s chest and hips as he slowly undressed him, staring at Zayn with nothing but adoration in a way that Zayn wished he could capture properly with ink and paper. 

There were moments that were hurried, when one of them whined for more, fingers digging into skin, but there was still a patience to it. It wasn’t just sex like it had been before. It was too cheesy to call it lovemaking, but with Niall’s forehead pressed against his, skin damp from exertion, sweet nothings and promises falling off his lips like a mantra, Zayn understood why the term existed. 

“I love you,” he breathed as his vision narrowed to one thing, just Niall. The rest of the world was forgotten. Nothing else mattered. “I need you. I’ve always needed you.” He could hear the way his voice raced to keep up with the way his heart was pounding, words he’d held inside for too long spilling out of him. “I couldn’t...It took everything. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” It tapered off into a soft moan when Niall moved just the right way to capture his lips in a hasty kiss. 

“Shh,” Niall promised softly, hand pushing up Zayn’s arm until their fingers were tangled together. “You have me. You’ll always have me.” 

How many times had Zayn dreamed of just that, had hoped for it? He didn’t even have to ask for it, but he had it. He slipped his free hand into Niall’s hair to keep him close, kiss him harder. “Always.” 

\---------

Zayn had never felt so tired and so wide awake at the same time. He was still close to Niall, one arm flung across his waist, legs twisted together. They were sticky and sweaty, but moving away seemed far worse than a little mess. Niall’s fingers were in his hair, drawing through the long strands, then brushing against the buzzed sides, soothing Zayn’s racing heart and mind with every touch. 

“Nick says he’s sorry by the way,” Niall said suddenly, breaking their quiet. 

“Hmm?” Zayn leaned up a little to see Niall’s face. It was a perfect face, cheeks still a tiny bit flushed, hair a wreck, love in his eyes. Had Niall always looked at him like that? Zayn would have to ask Liam. That was the sort of thing that Liam would have noticed. 

“He said to tell you that. At dinner. Or, well, when I told you how I felt. He feels bad about trying to help me move on.” 

That was enough to get Zayn to prop himself up with one elbow, looking down at Niall. “Help you move on?” 

Niall nodded slowly, fingers coming up to brush along the scruff on Zayn’s jaw, mouth turned down in a soft frown. “He knew I was gone over you. He’s known for a while. When you….when we stopped, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. I thought, ‘it’s finally over’ and he made it his mission to help me.” 

“All the dates,” Zayn said softly, putting it together. Nick must have thought the best way for Niall to move on was to find him someone else. 

“Yeah,” Niall said with a heavy sigh. “It just never worked. He was wondering what the hell was wrong with me, the night of the gallery opening. That was why he was there. So he could see what I was doing that kept putting girls off. Then he said he talked to you...And he figured it out.” 

Niall sat up more himself, drawing Zayn closer until Zayn straddled his lap, looking right at him. “He said you were as in love with me as I was with you.” 

Zayn rolled his eyes and sighed himself, nodding, but not quite meeting Niall’s eyes. “I hated seeing you with someone else. He must have noticed.” 

“He wanted me to tell you then. Just like Bressie told me to years ago. But I couldn’t. I was too scared. Then you were gone, up at Liam’s and… I had to.” He touched Zayn’s chin, enough that Zayn looked up, feeling tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “That’s what all of this was supposed to be. A date.” 

Zayn laughed, wiping at his eyes. “Made a right mess of it, didn’t we?” he asked, leaning in close again, relieved to feel Niall’s arms wrap around his waist. 

“I dunno, I had a good time. Did you not? Because we can try again…” 

“Oh, we’ll try again,” Zayn promised, pressing a kiss against Niall’s smile, cupping his face in his hands. “And again,” he punctuated it with another kiss. “And again.” 

“Making up for something?” Niall teased, but the sparkle in his eyes said he was on board with the idea. 

“Yes,” Zayn said with a nod, trying to adopt his best serious face. “Years of not knowing. Of being too scared to tell you how much I love you.” 

Niall nodded as well, pulling Zayn in for more kisses, and Zayn let himself get lost in them all over again.

\------------

“Again” lasted a couple of days, with neither of them going much further than the kitchen or to answer the door when food delivery arrived. Niall called into work for the first time ever and, besides some cheeky tweets and comments on how miserable he must be stuck in bed, Nick had let him take the time away without complaint. When they finally left the shelter of their room, it was only to go as far as the couch, steadfastly ignoring the small pile of dishes on the counter, trash that probably needed to be taken out and laundry that needed to be done. What mattered more was the bowl of popcorn Zayn had made and how comfortable Niall looked on the couch in joggers and a hoodie, hair mussed, soft and flat instead of styled like it normally would be. 

Niall pulled Zayn down into his lap and wrapped his arms around him, tangling their legs together like he couldn’t stand to be away from him for a moment even though they’d barely left the bed in days. Zayn found a comfortable position for himself and the popcorn as Niall worked his way through the Netflix queue, eventually picking some mindless action movie that would be interesting to watch, but not a big loss if they fell asleep in the middle of it. They had to go back to the real world in the morning, but for now, they could pretend that it was just them, Jason Statham, and some bad guys that needed to be dealt with. 

Zayn fished his phone of his pocket and snapped a photo of their feet as the movie started. There was one person who he knew needed to know as well, who was as much a part of them being together as they were. He sent the picture to Liam with one word under it. 

**Finally**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! come visit me, winglesswarrior @ tumblr and twitter!


End file.
